Aubade
A chilly, quiet May dawn, with not even a lobsterboat stirring as Raven idled up into the Little Thorofare, off North Haven.
We circled the schooner and then edged over between a few ledges and Goose Rock Light. Then I saw it…seals on one of the ledges were actually steaming in the morning chill. We edged slowly closer, imitating the behavior of a boat hauling. A couple of gulls flew by and that was it, a lasting fraction of a second from a perfect and quintessential Maine morning.
The perfect title soon found me; “aubade,” a special song or poem with which to greet the morning. The moment was fully and forever complete.
