The hire boats at Bowness get pulled up on the shingle when nobody is taking them out, which in this weather was everybody. Varnished hulls, red keels, all lined up nose to the water waiting for a better day.
I spent longer on the second frame than the first. Up close the bow has all the wear you want: the grain lifting under the varnish, the rope gone stiff and grey, the paint worn back where feet and ropes have done their work for years. The wider shot sets the scene; the close one is the reason I stopped.
Rain flattens the light and kills the colour on a lake like this, so the small reds end up carrying the frame.