There’s this spot on Kent Island that can at first appear to be nothing special. In the mid afternoon, when the light is brightest, it seems like any other location along the shore. Off to the north you can see the long expanse of the Bay Bridge. To the west, across the Bay, you might just make out the State House in downtown Annapolis. To the south, the Chesapeake flows to the Ocean. There are sailboats and cruise ships and cargo ships. Behind you is a parking lot. On the nearby pier, people throw their fishing lines or lower their strings tied with crab bait. Sometimes children run up and down the pier, dodging around strangers as they try to tag each other.
Its pleasant, and carries the feel of your typical Kent Island locale. But, as the sun lowers in the sky and the cars empty from the parking lot, something begins to change. The Sun lights up the sky with colors, reflecting off the clouds. The colors begin to deepen and darken and the light begins to fade. What few people remain suddenly find themselves talking more quietly. And then there’s a small moment of time when the deep colors of the sky still carry the touch of sunset, the light is just enough to silhouette the pines and other trees along the shore, and all you can hear is the lapping of the water against the rocks.
For a moment, its magic. And it reminds you that this thing you feel for how beautiful this spot is…its always there, if you listen and look hard enough.