Marking the entrance to the harbor is a lighthouse, and tending that lighthouse is a new keeper:
Old Man MacGowan. He's given up his part-time Christmas tree business and has gone to work for
hire. The pay's decent, and a house is provided. "Ye can't ask for better'n that," he tells his infrequent
visitors. And anyway, he likes to sit and stare for long periods of time while he smokes his pipe, and
that was hard to do, what with kids and their folks standing up every tree in the lot and stomping them
to see if the needles fell. Well, of course they was gonna fall; that's what needles do. And the hagglin'.
Good grief, a man couldn't make no money when all was said 'n done. All in all, he likes being lightkeeper,
even in the cold. He has plenty of wood stacked out front, and food in the larder. And there's just something
about starin' at that sea ....