Alone in the harbor, this one boat sat on her mooring all one winter. I know of tragedy in this fisherman's family, and at first titled I titled this "Refuge" with all of that in mind, yet the title didn't seem just right.

Once again, this is very much a portrait of a man, a family, of complex relationships....and somehow "Azimuth" spoke to me of the relationship that we all, in our circumscribed worlds, have with larger forces.

This is really two different photographs….the larger world beyond and the equally large, if more intimate, world within. 

I love how the boat has managed to keep open the little bit of water right around her....she is not fully frozen in and, somehow, there is resilience in that.

And a sense of isolation, but maybe some hope, too.

Here’s a poem written by Philip Conkling, inspired by Azimuth

Mercury’s Arc

The winds clock round 
From the roaring east

Then veer north-northwest.

The gale-lashed tide, 

Claws at our shores 

And drains down the bay.

Through swirling squalls,

An island looms near

Flashing out a warning.

Clouds lower to earth

Before they break open

And scatter about like pearls.

In the morning stillness

Fleet Mercury

Has cut an arc

Now carved in ice, 

A plane inscription

Of a rounded light.

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