Kayaks
Last week I went home, to a fragile peninsula on the southeast coast of
Massachusetts. I got up on my second morning there, walked to a nearby
beach, and launched my kayak.
It was very cold and an earlier snowstorm had left tongues of
blue-white under the pitch pines. A front was looming to the south, and
the dark bank of nimbostratus
filtered the sunlight, so that it splayed across the sea in fingers of
silver and smoke; exactly the colors of a mackerel's scales, although
this was not the type of cloud cover named for that fish.
Kayaks
Kayaks
Kayaks
Kayaks
Kayaks
Kayaks
Kayaks
Kayaks
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