Today we were awakened at 8:00 a.m. by the announcement, in our staterooms that we would be passing the Amalia Glacier.  We all had our clothes ready to jump into at the moment of notice.  We ran to the upper decks donned in our finest layers, gloves, fleeces, hats, and cameras. First they showed us from the port side then turned to the starboard side and it was quite a site to behold. There were three streams flowing slower than slow into the main glacier up next to the sea. A ray or two of sun broke through and you could hear the ahhhs from fellow passengers.  Well, the sighting was over, so everyone headed for the breakfast buffet. Now that was a crowd. Standing room only was the only option other than the outside deck where all hands, feet and food would freeze up before the meal could be consumed.

Skip went on his walk, I went to sign up for Adobe Photoshop classes and on the elevator down, and I asked my fellow rider, “Are you enjoying yourself?” His eyes popped wide open and he said, “ Well, to tell you the truth, not really?”  My floor arrived and I thanked him for his honesty and was left to ponder his statement.

I decided to collect others opinions, so I asked the same question of many others. Here are some of the quotable responses. “ I paid my money, so I better be having a good time.” “ Hell, yes, but this is not the best trip we have had.” “The sea days are relaxing.”” We are supposed to be having a good time aren’t we?”” What? Are you writing a book?” “Once we started feeling better. It was a rather rough week.” Another answer was,” What am I supposed to be enjoying?”

Now we have been sailing through the Chilean Fjords for two days. I equate this to life and the lives we are living. We are truly floating along with thousands and thousands of yet unseen, yet explored, yet undeveloped inlets, narrows, channels, and straits from which to explore and choose. Now, I have forgotten to mention the cracks, gullies, streams, impenetrable forests, impassable mountains, and endless fields of ice, boulders, rocks, pebbles, and undergrowth; you get it right?

Some sightings give the opportunity for a second or two never to be seen or discovered again. Our lives are like the ship that moves along at a pace that allows only a glimpse. Sometimes it slows down, even deliberates leisurely for enough time to make a decision. When you apprehend that there are so many unexplored places physically left on earth, right in your neighborhoods, even your own home, you might want to move from the physical to a mental detection of the unrecognized inlets, narrows, straits and channels awaiting your perception and identification from within.

Now the question here is: “ Are you having a good time?” Heck yes.  Now to the man in the elevator, I dedicate my Chilean Patagonian experimentations to you.

Isn’t there an age-old question: Goes something like this: If a tree falls in the middle of the forest and there is no one there to hear it, does it make a noise? I can’t begin to answer it scientifically, but as all of this nature passes by and when I have floated away and there is no one here to see it, does it still exist? If there is no one to enjoy its beauty is it still beautiful? If no one sees how the light plays on its continence, does the light still change the depth of perception and do the shadows still play with the variable lights and darks of the color green? So when the tree falls in the forest, what do you think?

And when you think no one is watching you or thinking about you, think again.