How do daily rituals confine us? And define us?
Consider the intertwined rituals of lobstermen in their pursuit of lobsters, and the role of an unvarying daily ritual: the setting sun.
Tucked away: A lobsterman’s traps are stacked and ready for tomorrow’s catch, just steps from his home near the shoreline.
Anchored: His trusted lobster boat sits off-duty at dusk, all set to make the rounds again the next day.
Settled in: Unmoored lobster buoys lean up against a tree, awaiting recovery by fellow fisherman who’ve lost them.
Confined: The catch of the day, subdued with claws banded, is contained first by a trap, now by a crate, soon by a pot and then by a plate.
Absolute: The setting sun is not as easily contained as the traps and the boat and the buoys and the catch, but its routine is just as reliable. ♣