I love the theatricality of this image: the set has this marvelous looming quality; the lighting -- especially the color -- so atmospheric; the players all in place for whatever the next act might be; the production manager watching from his console above the stage; the flamboyance and frustration of the lead player's gesture... even the sign makes me think of the lights that go out to signal the beginning of the play.
This particular drama plays out every 40 minutes or so, for all but three or four hours a day, every day of the year, with thousands of participants. For those of us who live on the island, it's just a part of life. For those who commute daily, like my husband, it lost its drama long ago and has become merely a necessary evil. And for others, who live on the mainland, it can be an overwhelming obstacle, a means to an end or the beginning of a new adventure -- and that doesn't even include the folks who work on or for the ferry system itself.
I'm sure this could be a metaphor for all kinds of things: I could talk about the importance of attitude, or the journey, or the complexities of life. I could ask where you are in this picture (my younger daughter is probably the one making the grand gesture center stage) or just make a clever pun ("we're all on the same boat" springs to mind) but in fact... well, I just like the picture. Maybe it doesn't need to be any more than that.