The backs of houses in the old harbor at Bearskin Neck, presenting a facade of serenity that belies the busy tourist hubbub that usually engulfs them. Fifty-seven flavors of ice cream are available here, plastic scrimshaw, bobblehead pirate, and a polyester sweatshirt with an anchor printed on the chest. The same sorts of souvenirs you can buy anywhere and everywhere, transported on great ships from across the seven seas like whale blubber once was when the harbor was an actual safe haven and not just a photo opportunity. But I had to take a picture because we all have to take a picture nowadays. If you don't, it didn't happen, apparently. Such are the responsibilities and obligations of the modern weekend vacationer.
This area has always attracted the makers of images, whether their medium is pixels, water color, or oil on canvas. It is, after all, home to the bemusingly famous "Motif #1," supposedly the most painted building in America, but actually a rather uninspiring red fishing shack with no appeal to my eye. I don't think it would have appealed to Vermeer's eye, either. He surely would follow me to the old harbor wall, setting his easel down to capture the backs of houses in the afternoon sun. Meanwhile, his girl with the pearl earring might watch her reflection ripple in the dark water. Or perhaps she'd be waiting in line at the ice cream shack for two scoops of black raspberry with chocolate chips in a sugar cone?
