He looked across the sea and knew how alone he was now. But he could see the prisms in the deep dark water and the line stretching ahead and the strange undulation of the calm. The clouds were building up now for the trade wind and he looked ahead and saw a flight of wild ducks etching themselves against the sky over the water, then blurring, then etching again and he knew that no man was ever alone on the sea.
The Old Man and the Sea, Ernest Hemingway
I have been reminded a lot of the ocean recently. I keep seeing beautiful old prints of clipper ships, I have been reading stories that seem to all revolve around water and with the ocean warming in the Northern Hemisphere I feel a pronounced longing to get to the shore. Buenos Aires is on a river delta, which is certainly a poor substitute for the true ocean, and I am seriously considering a long marine journey to cure these blue water blues.
images one, four, five and six courtesy of The Reef
images two and three courtesy of ffffound
image four courtesy of Era of the Clipper Ships
1 comment:
The photo of the houses on the "moors" looks vaguely like Scotland or also a bit like Block Island, a small island off the coast of Rhode Island.
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