MISSING DOLPHINS IN MOUSEHOLE
21st June 2015
MISSING DOLPHINS IN MOUSEHOLE

The Astrologer and I take an impromtu visit to Mousehole. We are looking for a small house, and after a wander in this happy place, we eat a fine dinner at the Old Coastguard Hotel, a favourite. The next morning I am sitting on rocks in Mousehole Harbour, below the Hotel, photographing a single small fishing boat, on a calm Sunday morning sea. A cloud splattered sky provides the bay with dancing splotches of light, sometimes bathing the boat in gold and I sit waiting, for the direction of the boat and the golden splotch to align. I'm happy to wait, in perfect warmth.

The Astrologer is in the Coastguard's Agapanthus garden high above my chosen scene, and the Scillonion is making it's daily passage to the Isles of Scilly, captured through two palms laden with flowers leeching a heady scent. She is writing, at last, her novel and while she is deep in paragraph one (no end in sight) she misses a shoal of dolphins, at least eight of them as they play through my fisherman's scene hardly visible with the human eye. I miss them too, or at least each frame I shoot is devoid of dophin activity, no fins, no tails, I miss every one, as they launch and dive, many times. I down my camera and watch, as others do, gasping whispers of joy until finally the school dance off through the golden light. The fisherman non plussed, has seen this sight before, he waits patiently in his golden pool for yet another bite.

 

 


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