Changeable weather, clear and bright, cool and breezy, overcast and moody, all during a single sail.
Tall ships. They're just ... well, how can one not love them?
Light on the water, seen past the head of the child whose name means 'sea bright'.
The look of joy when your child sees her favorite cousin (and the happy wistful smiles in remembering, later).
The peaceful satisfied focussed expression of a pre-teen taking a risk, knowing he will succeed.
The easy trust in their bodies as they leap and careen through space, and the utter lack of despair when they misjudge the leap. Amazing how they don't even pause to shake it off.
The endless smiles on the face of a friend who has found the right love in her life. And the easy certainty that her husband feels the same.
That easy, immediate mesh with old friends, so seamless that it is only noted in retrospect - and finding the same mesh with a new one.
The teasing, flirting smile of the child-who-had-been-shy, indicating that she has chosen to find a new friend in this old friend of her father's.
Sitting and playing a board game with young children in the ship's cabin in the middle of a crowd of feet and legs that one can call 'family.' Being allowed and able and safe to be entirely in the game, and not concerned that anyone will think we are 'in the way' or 'not participating in the party'.
Seeing the eldest take his freedom into his own hands and glory in it (or mainly not seeing him at all, but knowing from the glint in his eye when he passes that this day enables him to inhabit his body so fully that his soul appears to expand from within through and beyond his skin). Finding it no effort or struggle to be open to that.
Watching Miss M with the wind in her hair, just looking out at the water, holding the rail. Holding the rail, moving with the ship, face full of peace and light.
Watching Miss R resting flat on the deck, looking out through the drain holes under the rail, hair a-tumble, finding her own peace in the midst of the noise and crowd and feet walking by.
Epeepunk standing at the rail, flanked by children, talking with a cousin, at home with family out to the 2nds and removeds.
Being told that the replacement-we're-sorry room has a jacuzzi. And the squeals when the kids learn this fact.
Four children asleep, looking like angels that fell by accident through the ceiling of our hotel room.