After the Catch
So, as I took these steps through the dark dimensionalities
of the subtle light provided, I had a rare pleasure. It took no
leap of the imagination to think that I was walking down the
long lonely street of a Cape Cod town in the years before the
American Revolution. Each small house I passed now stood
out like a mid-eighteenth-century abode. For an hour or more
I was returned to the past. It was as if a tangible element of
those long-elapsed years had just seasoned my psyche. I was
endowed with a close intimation of what it might have been
like to live in New England then. I had received a gift. I now
had some living idea of that colonial era when the roots of my
country were first readying themselves for a mighty future.
HYLAND
