Breakfast at Boulder

Yesterday was one of those days at work that you really like to forget ever happened. I needed the mid-week pick-me-up so we met at the boat last night, even though it was only for a few hours. We were, once again, the only ones there for the night, save the Great Blue Heron and a hundred million stars. It was a clear, crisp night and almost cool enough to require the new quilt we have waiting in the compartment under the v-berth. A couple of pork chops, a salad and a rum and coke later we drifted off to sleep accompanied by the staccato of the carp-dance. Nothing remarkable, but boy it did the trick. I'm almost glad that we had to get up early to return to work this morning. If we hadn't, we would have missed the most spectacular sunrise I've seen out there yet:

 

Breakfast was a Marathon bar on the dock watching the remnants of this glory fade away. Again, nothing remarkable, but it was probably the most elegant breakfast I've had in a while. Friday can't come soon enough.