The sea was glassy, the sky rose-coloured, empty and huge. In a small boat just off the beach a lone fisherman leaned forward on his oars, pushing them away in easy, rhythmic cycles as natural as walking. Facing the bow, he could see exactly where he was going as he propelled his varka towards the coloured floats suspending his snaking net. With each forward thrust he stamped his foot on the wooden sea-frame: a low, resonant thump skipped off the surface of the water like a stone. Except for this solemn dirge, the boat glided forward in total silence. It seemed suspended between the soft fire in the sky above and its faithful reflection in the liquid mirror below. By thumping, the fisherman hoped to snare more fish before retrieving his net.
It was easy to imagine some glittering surge, frightened by the alien noise, fleeing headlong into the net loitering ahead with idle menace.
Agia Pelagia, Kythera, Greece