The anemic white-coloured sun we had that day gave throughout the picture a sepia tonality I really find appropriate.

Interesting the detail of these two fellas cleaning the hull. I wonder what stories do they tell each other? Obscene ones for sure.

Autumn; this season of transition. From the warm summer to the freezing winter. When all the creatures have to get ready for the tough times that approach. The following is a poem that summarizes the melancholy associated with autumn:

Who now has no house, will not build one (anymore).
Who now is alone, will remain so for long,
will wake, and read, and write long letters
and back and forth on the boulevards
will restlessly wander, while the leaves blow.
by Rainer Maria Rilke