Gloucester, I have found, is one of those places that is full of surprises. I can visit the same place day after day and, despite its familiarity, be surprised again and again by the subtle differences in light, the sounds of the sea or the harbor and the people working or playing there and the effects of sun and clouds on the mood of the day.
The other day I went down to the State Fish Pier as I do 2 or 3 times a week, sometimes with a clear intent to find a subject to photograph and sometimes just to observe, listen or meditate. This time I think I felt more like the dog in Denise Levertov’s marvelous poem, Overland to the Islands, where “every step [is]an arrival.” Although I had viewed the harbor from this vantage point many times before, I was nevertheless surprised by the clarity of the light, the precision of the ripples and the drama of the low- lying clouds.
I was happy that I always carry my camera.