The lone fisherman stood on the shore of the Mediterranean Sea, the waters fed here by a tidal river. Quietly he watched and waited, listening to the rhythm of the sea as it ebbed and flowed around him.
Shafts of saffron coloured sunlight pierced an aubergine sky. Gathering clouds washed over the setting sun, cooling the air and signalling that, soon day would once again yield to the night. The rising moon heralded the arrival of a breeze.
Below, tension gripped the river waters surface, a silvered mirror on whose face the sky reflected; whilst evening’s insects danced upon that watery stage. It was a picture of serenity, which was broken only occasionally by the sounds of leaping fish.
The creatures that inhabited the estuary waters had been separated from the sea by the sand deposited on an earlier tide. A safe haven had thus been formed in which they were at liberty to forage and to hunt.
Now the sea was returning to reclaim the estuary for itself, wave after wave in turn washed away the sands from the estuary mouth. The Mediterranean and the river merged. Now the former hunters would themselves become pray to the larger species which were able to navigate once more the deeper waters.
The fisherman smiled, the tide was indeed turning. Maybe his luck would too.
No comments:
Post a Comment