Fisherman and His Craft
I knew this beach and the moment were special. I had never seen sand or water like this, and save for the fisherman, I was alone. He was quietly bringing in his catch in the early afternoon sun. An epiphany in travel happens rarely, but when I find that essential part of nature that I seek, it stops me in my tracks. I breathe slowly, wiggle my toes, soak it all in, and take a photograph. I am on full mental record. It is the essence of why I travel. This was such a place. I have not been back for decades, but I know the a world of people followed me to this place. Negril, Jamaica, 1972.
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