Each summer season comes and leaves again, just as it arrived, like a fleeting breeze. "Next year," I say every time and every time becomes just another excuse. She sits in the yard year to year. Though sagging in the sod, the grass growing up around her, covering her majesty, still she stands proudly, flaked just as we left her- "Old Knock About" or "Sweet Maiden" waiting for her next voyage. Either way, she's ready and waiting with the patience of a saint saying sweetly, "take me to sea, dear friend, just one more time. I promise to glide as I once did...to fly with the wind...to carry you to uncharted waters. Have no fear, my love, my old trusted friend, I will not disappoint. It is not here that I should rest, but at sea."