while living in southern greece last summer, I would watch an elderly man fish at the pier every evening. As the sun would set he would grab a rod, catch one or two fish, and then return to the taverna for a few drinks with his friends. One evening I waited on the balcony and like clockwork he appeared as the sky began to change colors. And as he did every other night, he caught and released a few small fish, bid farewell to the setting sun, and settled in for an evening ouzo.