The Good Sailor
Today, I took a walk on this cold November morning with my dog, along the pier in Howth.
Rows of pleasure boats were standing tall and thin, their sails packed away. There was hardly a movement detectable to the naked eye.
All looked calm, and ordered, and regimented. Nothing to report.
And yet, to my ears and to my skin, the place was a roaring cacophony of sound and swoosh. The wind, invisible because it was a cloudless day, was running wild through the riggings and moorings of those sail boats. The result was a thunderous symphony of whistle and rattle. The pier was alive with nervous, electric energy.
And that’s the challenge of marketing.
To the eye, there’s often not too much to grip the attention. And yet, the market is always in movement. Always alive. If it’s not the wind, it’s the tide. If it’s not the tide it’s the light. If it’s not the light, it’s the swell.
The good sailor uses all of her senses when she’s hell-bent on leaving port.