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Sundays in the country usually start with a bang. Several bangs.
Allow me to elucidate. I am referring to the sound of gun shots echoing over our house as hunter-gatherers from the town cast off their soft shoes and don stout boots and camouflage jackets and stalk anything that flies, crawls or runs through the trees.
This morning there was silence.
I briefly wondered what had diverted the predators from their rifles then forgot about it and enjoyed the stillness.
Having rained most of the night, it was a beautiful day today; about 22 degrees C with not a breath of wind and clear enough to see the mountains the other side of Milas. We decided to go for a walk by the sea and chose a forest path that winds along the coast to the north of Güvercinlik.
As we reached the sea, it became obvious that everyone intent on catching food for the the table had put down their guns and picked up fishing rods. Either in small boats or sitting on the shore, there were hoards of amateur fishermen. I learnt a new word "Rastgele" or "Rasgele". I'd seen it as a boat or restaurant name and now know that it is a friendly greeting wishing fishermen a good catch.
With the light at just the right angle I managed to catch how clear the water is in front of this fisherlady.
At the end of the path we met the professionals. Friendly as all sea-going people are, they chatted, posed for photos and insisted on giving us 2 kilos of mackerel and bream. I felt a bit guilty walking back past all the amateurs as we'd bagged a large catch without a hook or rod between us.
