Dead Man's Slip

Gorgeous summer day. I had the evening to myself so drove out to Seapoint (my old phrontistery) to see what the sea was up to: calm, like a great bowl of blue-white milk. I tried to photograph the sickle moon then walked over to the little slip (I once overheard someone call it Dead Man's Slip, apparently because a man once drowned off it). No drownings this evening, just a couple sitting on the wall and a woman and a girl (presumably mother and daughter) throwing a ball for a dog. Apart from the brine, there was a faint sweetness on the air, possibly from grass or flowers nearby, or one of the women; it seemed like the scent of the evening itself, something on the sea or the air's sleeve. I decided to use the tripod rather than the flash, because the figures cut such lovely silhouettes.