Some days on the water are so warm, we open the door between the salon and the deck, where we store the round buoy. The door is narrow, as is the deck, but the buoy fits its spherical self easily between the walls.
Today is cloudy and only 70 degrees and the door between the salon and the deck is closed. The buoy is still there. Waiting to be useful. Summer moments like these seem fleeting and somehow fragile.