Got back from the rock-wall climbing birthday party after the second soccer game just as the sun was starting to go down. A quick three-mile jog to warm up as the evening star poked her seductive head over Killam’s Point in the east. The tide was just coming up to full, a wide, still pool of a flood. In the last flashes of sunlight out on the Sound I could see white sails, round-bellied but still.
The water’s cooler now, & it takes me about 50 yards of fly and 50 free to get my body comfortable. As soon as I stop my skin starts to tingle. I turn to look back at the houses of Short Beach, every third one lit from inside. No one else is visible on the bay. Even the seaweed is silent, floating in stolid clumps. I float on my back and watch the sky.
Timing is everything.