Over time, it has occurred to me that my photo files, however unintentionally, appear to be listing, laden with the weight of water. From the days when I’d try all means to catch whatever would bite, I’ve always spent quality time around water, in a boat or on a beach or simply at an overlook. I’ve spent many a day navigating the rivers, lakes and ponds near my home in Central New Hampshire. I’ve cruised down the Cape Cod Canal and around the islands off the New England coast. I’ve built sand castles with my kids and grandkids, and brought them tubing and water skiing. I've swum in the Bay of Pigs and the coastal waters of Costa Rica, Mexico and Puerto Rico.

Perhaps the most memorable of days was when I was fishing by myself on Belgrade Lake in Maine on a beautifully warm day at the end of fall. The colors around me were spectacular. The warm breeze started to pick up a bit and for more than an hour, as sunset approached, I watched the last of the rainbow of leaves blow through the air and settle on the surface, joyfully giving themselves up as an encore to the whole of autumn. Floating leaves all around, soon to sink or freeze. There’s hardly another place I’d rather be. The waters shown in this exhibit attracted me like a magnet, as if I was dowsing for a respite.