Working Title

Down by the shore the early morning sun light pierced through the cloud cover onto the crystal shards of the rock strewn beach. The gulls circled losing their momentum as one by one each dropped from the sky snatching at the nets, their cries piercing the stillness as the shrimp boats made landfall. The raucous sounds melded into the cacophony of the fishermen’s voices, diesel engines whining and the constant slap of water against the pilings. My camera lens focused in on this activity, zooming in and out on the stoop shouldered men carrying crates of fish, foreign accents speaking a multiple of languages, muscle strewn ropy arms a testament to years of hard labour. Livelihoods lost and won, men surrendering their souls to the deep ocean blue to keep the world in a constant supply of food. I am grateful.

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