I recall the days of being at the beach and it would be just like this. The surf is rolling in but its hard to see. Its an earie time. Vacant with only a few people and maybe a dog or two. The air is damp with the fog and the sand sticks to everything. In the distance sits Race Point Light barely visible. I’m sure its even more dense out there. And, with each fog horn, we can imagine how it was for the sailors and fishermen as they returned to the port, be it possibly Provincetown.
I know you may have experienced just this type of day. The colors in this painting may not be as visible here. There are shades of pink in the gray washes and the grasses are dulled back from the daylight yellows and greens. It’s a different mood for sure.