It was an awkward house, but the entire north wall was covered in windows, revealing a grand view of the bay. “I’ll take it,” he told the realtor, “today.”
“Don’t you want to look upstairs, or in the kitchen?” she asked, because the house had been on the market a long time.
He began painting, furiously—sharp clean sails digging into the wind, dividing the pellucid sky from the water. And late into the night, he painted the great white splashes of yellow-billed pelicans who fished in the spotlight off his pier, gliding in and out of the dark like dancers on a stage.