Fishing with the sunset
My favorite part of the early evening - after the sunset of course - is watching the fishermen stand on the shore, as still and alert as the birds, watching for fish.
They are holding a net that appears to be at least 10 or 15 feet in diameter, over their shoulder gathered in folds. Sometimes they wade into the water up to their shorts; sometimes deeper.
Sometimes they give a shout, or they just rush and toss the net high in the air. It furls open and lands flat on the waves, sinking immediately.
They begin pulling the net, with a long rope that is attached to it and secured in a hand and sometimes between their teeth, towards the shore, tugging it in with the waves.
Soon the net appears, once again, folded in on itself - and full of shiney, shimmering fish! If their throw was lucky!
They shake the fish out of the net, pile them inside their waiting bucket, and return to stare at the ocean once again.
I peer and peer to try to see what they see. I ask them to show me. I look and look. And then, suddenly I see, the fish, scores of them, squirming on the top of the water, barely distinguishable from the waves, but definitely a swift, swirling, flopping run!
And the nets go up and over, and the fishermen are happy!
Their are no clouds tonight, so the sunset is pretty but not stunning. I go to scam Starbucks internet and electricity, while I wait for my solar to be fixed.