…said the server as she brought us our chowder, my glass of cold wine, a salad topped with a tangle of beets. I was looking out the window where salmon jumped, a man in a small Boston whaler cast into their ripples, and a heron stood on the end of the dock like a person praying, absolutely still. The boat whose renovations I’ve been watching for 5 years has new blue windows. All afternoon I’ve been writing about a woman who is painting a series of canvases from this very window and she is trying to figure out how to include the seams left by the boats, the occluded moments, so when I looked out at the wooden cruiser drifting away from the dock and the heron in its own private meditation, I wasn’t sure whether I was determining the particular mix of colour or if a single glass of wine was enough.
...Theresa Kishkan 