Explore "Mackereling out in the Gulf" by Lucy Maud Montgomery on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The mackerel boats were all at anchor on the fishing grounds; the sea was glassy calm -- a pallid blue, save for a chance streak of deeper azure where some stray sea breeze ruffled it.
It was about the middle of the afternoon, and intensely warm and breathless. The headlands and coves were blurred by a purple heat haze. The long sweep of the sandshore was so glaringly brilliant that the pained eye sought relief among the rough rocks, where shadows were cast by the big red sandstone boulders. The little cluster of fishing houses nearby were bleached to a silvery grey by long exposure to wind and rain. Far off were several "Yankee" fishing schooners, their sails dimly visible against the white horizon.