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Monday, March 13, 2017

dready at the wharf house


                       dready s 'man in a canoe' - original on paper - 28x10

i woke up, as i almost always do, at dawn - i was in a new house; oh i'd seen this house before in several incarnations, but had never stayed in it; it's beautiful lovely serene comfortable cool ... old old old cool.

we'd arrived in the dark of night and so i was anxious to see it, the house, the environs, in the light of day ... walk in the dew wet grass with my bare feet, smell the sea, take photos of the old stables, the house, the wharf master's office, the teepee, the beach, the cottages ...

the sun rises slowly, blocked at first by the low hills to the east of mo-bay; light creeps in, it infiltrates rather than surprises; insinuates itself on the trees, the lawn, the dock, the sea ...

soft cool air, people stirring around the house (not the guests; other than the i, they were firmly asleep) a cup of coffee ... and around the point an old man rowing a moss stained canoe, his fishing net in a small pile at the opposite end.

even at this little distance I could see that he was not a young man ...

so when a dude in an old ass canoe comes rowing into your morning light you begin to wonder about where he came from, where was he going to, where had he been ... and from there the story can develope in a thousand ways.

and then he was gone ...

breathe in life ...





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