Sea Dogs

There are two golden hours.

The first comes alive
as the fishermen
rising with the tide
load gear and guts
and head out to sea.

And then just before sunset
when their boats are all tucked in for the night
the light softens
colors are warmer
edges shimmer
and humans gather
to bear witness.

In Menemsha
they arrive in groups
with chairs and coolers and children in tow
and settle along the sandy beach
to celebrate the day’s passage.

We are there too
between the pilons out on Dutcher’s Dock
but with the ocean behind us
looking back
on sleeping boats and empty fishing shacks
shadowy porches and whispering neighbors.

Maggie and I had been wandering around the little town for most of the afternoon.
Jane gave us both a refreshing cup of water.
Then we walked out along the dock
stopping outside of Larsen’s to chat for a spell with Paul and his pup.
And gradually, as the crowds began to gather to watch the sun go to bed
we made our way further out.

Boats coming in
sun going out
seabirds singing
water becalmed
there was magic in that gold.

It wasn’t until I returned to the landlocked studio
and scrolled through my reference photos
that I zoomed way in
to see Paul and companion heading home up their little hill
and seeing that furry deckhand readying to tie up
and remembering my own trusty apprentice
who had been waiting patiently for the Muses to let her artiste be done for the night…

well…
getting to paint those kind of moments
are what it’s all about.