As a child lying down over the transom of my grandparents’ ketch, I would watch in wonder at the distinctive pattern of our wake. The foam almost ‘danced’ as it zig-zagged between the crests and troughs of the sea. There was always that slight touch of melancholy as our wake would fade into the distance. The title, ‘Harmony’ can have many levels of meaning: The ‘harmony’ of these two people working together; the seagull soaring in ‘harmony’ over the waves.
