Plans

Or lack thereof, I should say. Solid plans elude me. I reach, like a coral polyp's tentacle, seeking even the smallest morsel in the expanse of sea surrounding me. The water offers no reward this time of year. And so I hunger...

I'm not sure I can find the patience to remain at the winery until the seas become more plentiful. The spring bounty of wildlife work is so far from now. But in these limited times, what else is there to do but wait. I have one prospect, which would be my saving grace. But with the way my luck has been these days, I try not to get too hopeful.