It was damp but not raining as we clawed our way through downtown Bar Harbor to the waterfront walkway finally finding relief from the heat and the mayhem that was thousands of cruise ship t-shirt collectors.
We were there taking a break from days of sailing through fog and rain, and to check out the winter storms damage as we’ve been doing all summer along the coast and around the islands. A sizable chunk of shoreline was missing from the famous path shortening our walk by half, so we wandered over to the public wharf to check out the local fishing fleet.
One of the boats had a blown a transmission. Her captain was suffering a big owie. Tom could relate and hung around to give him moral support. I decided to meander over to the other side of the wharf where I found a young woman fishing by herself down below me on one of the floats.
She looked as if she had just left work. Her hair was stylishly cut and she wore a beautiful loose fitting light weight white jacket, long pleated black skirt, white gloves and upscale sneakers.
She was casting by herself - for mackerel is my guess. As I eased my way down the gangway, I noticed there was no bucket for her catch. Was she fishing to relax after work, looking for relief from the heat, people, noise? Maybe as a youngster she had learned to fish with her dad, and the simple graceful motion of casting fed her soul. Or maybe she was just fishing.
She represented such a contrast to what was happening in town and in my head, a reminder of the gifts received when time is loosely held for a minute to simply take a look around.
iPad sketch - NFS
