“Endless Summer.” That’s the name of the yacht on which you’re about to embark. And it’s yours, completed just in time to go out on the first calm, warm day of the season. The salty breeze toys with your tresses as you step onto the golden-hued Teak flooring of the deck. The lumber came from a quality mill, and you found it at J. Gibson McIlvain. You could have opted, instead, for cheaper materials and more bargain-priced workmanship. You’ve wondered if opting for luxury was a mistake; from that first step, though, you have no regrets. Custom, stylish, timeless—these words all come to mind as you look around.
Of course, you didn’t go out on the boat to focus on your new boat, though: You came to drown your stresses in the water and throw your troubles to the wind. The boat is pulls out into open water. You glance over your shoulder at the increasingly distant shore that holds the world and all its cares. You feel so empowered, unfettered, and real. You brush your hair back from your face, although it’s futile.
You look ahead, where the far-from-placid blueness stretches out, farther than your view. You spot a pair of binoculars on deck and hold them up to help enhance the view, but still you cannot see an end to the sea. You do see other watercrafts, however. Some have peeling paint, and others are equipped artificially-formed railings in utilitarian lines. Could you relax as much on such a boat, bedecked with cold, unnatural materials and some as worn out as you felt before you stepped on board? Perhaps. You sit down on the deck and run your hand along the vertical grain of quality Teak flooring on which you sit. Maybe such luxury isn’t needed, but you’re so glad that it’s yours.
The cool bright aqua-colored liquid is a lens through which you view aquatic life. Happy colors dance beneath the surface, inviting you to smile. Your gaze drifts further upward to the sky. The lighter blue has only a few wispy white adornments. Through the haze, you see the golden ball peeking in and out. As the sun begins to lower to the West, you pull your jacket out and let it hug your shoulders tightly. As the day is coming to a close, you know summer will eventually end.
Relaxed and invigorated, both, you head back to shore, better prepared to face the old realities again. Again facing the cares of your world, you glance over your shoulder at the vast expanse of blueness and the clouds that hide the golden ball. You will return to this day, in person and in memory. At least in your mind’s eye, the summer will not end.