Great Cove’s waters in the early morning are a rippling darkness, more easily heard than seen. A wooded ridge blocks the sun from reaching the Cove at true dawn. The first sign of dawn comes to its waters as a reflection: a glow in the sky above the ridge.


The Cove then accepts that early light into its own, rolling reflection, all the while waiting for the sun to show itself. There may be an allegory on the perception of reality here. (Brooklin, Maine)