They stayed longer than planned, casting into the darkening water while the last rays of a spring sunset faded over the Scarborough marsh. The river moved quiet and steady, carrying the tide beneath a pale sky streaked with the final light of day. The men stood apart with their rods and their thoughts, listening to the wind in the reeds and the soft pull of the current against the shore.
There was no hurry to leave. Night would come soon enough. For a little while longer the world was still, and the river belonged only to the fishermen, the marsh, and the fading light.
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B.A.Neveux Photography 
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