A single boat. A lone fisherman. Quiet time on a placid bay during the golden hour. Most anyone who has done his or her fair share of fishing will gaze upon this capture and immediately recall a similar morning or evening on the water. At times like this, one can almost hear their heartbeat. I’m not sure the fish were biting as I watched in stillness but I have to wonder if this fellow in blue even cared. With the setting sun at his back, the purple cast in the eastern sky and the golden light cast upon the encircling woods, I’m pretty sure he was caught-up in the reflections.
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