I took this picture during my last foggy outing. Disappointed when I downloaded it, I gave it a pass, wishing I’d captured the still boats without the restaurant in the background.
On second glance, I liked the deep red hull, (the boat is called “Prime Ribs,” by the way), juxtaposed against the gray of the building and the toothpaste green of the boat beside it. I gazed at it a while before understanding my photo displays more than one kind of contrast.
About fifty yards down the street from the building you see above, there's a two story shed of a place where lobstermen offload their catch. I have no idea what the men who climbed into those boats at dawn and hauled traps out on the churning sea receive as their per-pound price. But the last time I drove by, a sign out front announced the retail price of Lobsters as $4.99 a pound. So if I had a hankering to buy a couple to take home and steam, that’s what I’d pay if I walked in off the street.
The restaurant, a lovely, white table cloth, fine dining establishment lists a 1 ½ pounder on its menu for $26. No villains here. I get the cost of running a business. A successful eating establishment needs to charge something like three times the cost of food to make money. I just happened to capture two different ends of that spectrum, overlooking each other in our harbor.
Sometimes a picture is something pretty to look at. Other times, it tells a story.