The Hunt
In the calm before the storm, the light and dories compelled me to swing Raven over into Sand Cove to see if there was an image waiting for me.
The contrasts drew me; the brilliant light on the lobster boats out beyond the harbor mouth, caught between the softer light in the foreground and the dark wall of the approaching front. The serenity of the cove versus the vitality of the men hauling, the swarm of gulls scavenging discarded bait, and the brooding power of the massing storm.
It was all so alive, so charged with the quiet excitement of something about to happen. It was a strangely quiet moment, but one crackling with energy. A stage set, if you will, with the sky a dramatic background to human and avian endeavor that is – always - all about the ceaseless hunt for something.
