Maine: Day 5 – A Farewell to The Sea

Time does not exist when staring at the ocean.

Not for me.

I could pass countless hours standing on the shore, listening to the crashing waves.

It does something to me – the ocean. I can’t quite explain it, as I don’t fully understand it myself, but everything seems to stop. There’s a sense of peace, time to recharge, and I feel like I’ve been taken out of reality, if only for a moment.

Foggy MorningOn my last day in Maine, I woke to a thick blanket of white. Through the night the heat and humidity had disappeared and a heavy fog had rolled in. The beach that I was used to seeing from my room was no more, although, I could hear it. I couldn’t even see the sandy path through the greenery or the white picket fence. Of course this didn’t stop me. If anything I became more curious, since I’ve only seen the ocean on bright, sunny days.

I went down to beach as I did every morning. I walked along the rocky shoreline until I reached the jetty. I climbed up the the sandy slop that was scattered with rocks and stood on the jetty before walking out a little ways.

The sky was gray and the water was the color of steel. For some reason I thought it looked like something from a Stephen King novel, but I think I’ve simple been reading too many of my friends books. (He’s a horror writer.) It was so different from previous days of golden light and sparkling blue, but there was still beauty in the dullness of the morning – the way the clouds hung low and seemed to swallow the bluffs as well as the end of the jetty.

I stood there for awhile, looking and listening. Part of me wanted to stay forever, but the other part of me knew I had to go eat breakfast and start the drive home.

Home.

The part of me that wanted to stay already felt like I was home. After all, the ocean is my second home. It’s my home away from home.

It’s always a bittersweet farewell – wanting to stay and knowing I have to go. But the one thing that continues to make leaving alright is the fact that the ocean will always be there, waiting. And that, eventually, I will return.

If you would like to see more photos from Maine you may do so by visiting my photo page.

Advertisements

Maine: Day 4 – Local Art

My plan was to walk the mile into town and take pictures along the way, but I didn’t make it very far.

The dog in the window caught my attention. Not a real dog. It was a picture of one, a calendar cover. In the picture the dog was hanging his head out of a car window. And he looked like he was having a wonderful time.

There was a row of art galleries as soon as I started my walk and I’ve never been one for turning down an art gallery. Especially one that deals in photography.

Upon entering the photo gallery I was struck not by how small it was, but the beautiful photos hanging on the walls and placed around the gallery. The ones leaning against the wall were wrapped in plastic and as I carefully looked at them, I felt at if I was handling something fragile. (Which, in a way, I was.)

Night.

Water.

Moon.

So many great photographs. It’s hard to pick a favorite. (So I’m not going to.) Of course there were those that struck me instantly, but what I loved in each photo was the lighting. It was gorgeous. I could’ve stood there all day looking at them.
I’m sure anything I could say about these photos wouldn’t do them justice. So make sure to check out Chris Becker’s website and have a look for yourself, as he’s the photographer of these amazing images.

I’m thankful I had the opportunity to speak with someone so knowledgeable on the topic. (As I’m still young and learning.) When I find someone as passionate as I am, I feel as though I could talk to them forever. Or at least a very long time.

I never anticipated walking into a photo gallery that day.

I never anticipated having a great conversation with a local photographer that day.

But I’m so glad I did.

Maine: Day 3 – A Day in Town

It was a quaint little town. Shops and restaurants lined the street. The same lake that flowed into the ocean ran under a bridge where there was a display of locks. Each lock had names and dates. They held anniversaries, marriages and first dates. The locks were meant to symbolize the love two people have for one another, the thing that holds them together.

On one side of town stood a clock tower while a little church sat at the corner of the other. The church was hidden by trees and their lush, green leaves. It also sat on the outskirts of town.

People walked the streets with shopping bags while car whizzed by. Some people even had their dogs with them.

The town was very pet friendly.

And there was even a store dedicated to dogs. Scalawags.

I walked the streets, going into a store here and there, but mostly window shopping. My intent wasn’t really to buy anything (although I did purchase a new hat). I simply wanted to walk around the small town and see what it had to offer.

It was still hot and a little humid, so thankfully it offered me shade. I sat in the grass under a tree for awhile, but it was still enjoyable. In the shade it was cool. Or cooler then being on the streets. In the shade there was a nice breeze.

The town smelled like lobster and fish, the ocean and occasionally car exhaust fumes – depending on where you were. Mostly it smelled of fish and the ocean, which I didn’t mind. In fact, I liked it.

Size doesn’t really matter here. Not in this town. It might be small, but it has plenty to offer. From shops to restaurants to ice cream to simply sitting in the shade there’s something for everyone.

Maine: Day 2 – A Photographic Exploration

Everyday can be a photographic adventure.

And everyday I’m away someplace is indeed just that – a day to explore. Even if I’ve been to a certain place before, I believe there are always new things to see or things I missed the first time around.

So after breakfast I grabbed my camera and went for a long walk.

The sidewalk from the hotel split two ways. One way went into town (only 1 mile from the hotel) while the other wrapped around the beach and led to the unknown. I decided to take the one that led along the water’s edge.

Along the way there were a couple of bluffs looking out at the ocean. For the most part they were cleared of vegetation. There was the occasional tree or clump of bushes and, of course, grass. From the top of the bluff I could look down at the steep drop and all the rocks or out at the water and marvel at how expansive it is. I’ve seen the ocean repeatedly over the course of my young life and it never ceases to amaze me.

The sidewalk curved around, hugging the shoreline, and eventually the sand Old Housedisappeared and was replaced by rocks and pebbles. Large rocks still jutting out from the cliffs and the further I walked the more they rose up from the water.

Before reaching more of the rocky shore, I came across an old house. Or church. It’s hard to say what it was, or is, but it was gorgeous – built of stone. It had a long, gravel driveway and sat facing the ocean. On one side was a little field and I thought how diverse the landscape was here. From the field it appeared to be a mysterious old building in the middle of nowhere. It had a certain vibe to it that I can’t quite place my finger on.

Across from the ocean sat a line of houses, or condos. Most of them had balconies onThe Secret Garden the second floor and I thought about how breathtaking the view must be from up there. (Not that it wasn’t from down here.) One of the houses had a garden with a old, rusting gate. There were vines of purple flowers weaving their way through the spaces between the bars. It reminded me of The Secret Garden, only I didn’t need a key to enter.

Back on the ocean side there was a set of stairs the led to the rocky shore. I took each step carefully and walked along the rocks. The smell of the ocean blew inland and, once again, I breathed it in, relishing the moment. Seaweed and algae and little barnacles grew on and clung to the rock. The water washed onto land in small, bubbly waves. Actually, they were more like little ripples that still had to grow into waves, but lapped at the shore all the same.

Kids at SunsetI photographed into the evening, going down to the beach at sunset. The waves crashed against the backdrop of a sky exploding in color. Children ran along the beach as they searched for shells, their parents trailing behind. Others walked out on the jetty, the sun sinking lower and lower in the sky as it gave away to the day’s last light.

If you would like to see more pictures from Maine you may do so by visiting my photo page.

Maine: Day 1 – Arriving Home

It was hot and humid, an unseasonable trend for Maine that would continue (or so I was later told while talking to locals.).

At the moment I didn’t mind. The air was heavy with the salty smell of the marshes as we drove through. It wafted in through my open window. I closed my eyes and breathed deep. The smell always reminded me that the beach was getting closer, almost like a welcoming committee before reaching home.

The hotel we stayed in was a big 100 year old building situated in front of the ocean. It looked beautiful and grand on the outside (or as much as possible after 100 years) and the inside was just as lovely, with spacious rooms and comfy beds. Of course, there was no AC. Not even window air-conditioners. The hotel prided itself on keeping that old-time feel. So there were only ceiling fans. And mine was on high the entire time while my window was flung wide open.

I’m glad we had nice weather (sun everyday), but we always seem to visit Maine while they’ll having an unseasonable heatwave. Although, it’s better then rain, so I really can’t complain.

Anyway, that night I sat on the edge of my bed looking out the window at the ocean. It was dark and I couldn’t see anything, but I knew it was there. I saw it from my room while the sun was still out and now I could hear it. There was a tiny breeze that blew inland and with it came the briny smell of the sea.

That smell makes some people gag, but I love it. I breath it in whenever I have the chance. I fill my lungs with salty sea air…and I don’t regret it.

That night, when everything became quiet, the ocean was still making it’s presents known. The constant crashing of waves lulled me to sleep like a baby being rocked in its mother’s arms.

The ocean in my home.

It’s my second home, my home away from home. And for a few days that’s where I would be – by the ocean.

A Birthday Message

Let’s show Tim Foreman, of Switchfoot, some love, as he turns 37 today!

Happy Birthday Tim! You are the master of the infamous, yet signature, hair flip. You Switchfoot at the Switchfoot Bro-Ammake playing look effortless as you draw those deep notes from the your bass. And you can sing too. What a lovely voice. You are one of the sweetest guys I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting and guaranteed to put a smile on anyone’s face. (I know you put on smile on mine). Thank you for everything you do, all the sacrifices, all the travel, all the tours. Thank you for making beautiful music and sharing it with all of us. We appreciate it and we appreciate you. I hope you have a great day. I wish you all the best, always.

Boston Road Trip: Day 2 – Exploring Boston

Whenever I go places, I like to explore. Even if I’ve been there before, I like to have a look around. Sometimes I think we take this world and what it has to offer for granted. We miss the little things, the little details, the beauty. I don’t want to miss any of it. And, so, I enjoy exploring.

And that’s exactly what we did before our weekend in Boston came to an end.

We turned down random streets, gazing at the architecture and wandering into parks.

There were many fountains with water gushing up and falling in a rhythmic motion. If it had been warmer that morning, or even if the sun and been out, I would’ve been tempted to run through them. Actually, I know I would’ve at least ran through at least one.

We came across this long walkway made up of arches. We actually discovered it the previous night while walking back to the hotel after the concert. (Ok, so, maybe all the credit goes to my friend since I was too busy looking up at the night sky). At night it was lit up. The arches glowed gold as ivy weaved its way up the sides. It was magical. To me, it seemed like something out of a Jane Austen novel. I’m not sure why I thought that at the time, but I’m also not sure the reason matters. My point is that it was beautiful. Although, it seemed to lose some of that magic during the day. I loved it so much more when it was glowing against the bluish-black backdrop of night.

I would also like to mention the carousel. It sat a little hidden among a patch of trees and some other shrubberies. I’ve always loved carousels – riding them, admiring them. But this was not a traditional horse carousel. This one had many creatures to ride from both land and sea. There was a whale, a snail, a seagull, a fox and many more. Each pole appeared to be painted gold. The trim around the top was also gold while the rest was painted a light blue, adorning wispy white clouds.

Of course there was the waterfront. I can’t go to Boston without talking a bit about the waterfront. It smelled of fish and the ocean – a sent I love. There were multiple boats docked at the pier. A majority of them, if not all, were fishing boats. As we passed, all the equipment needed to catch fish was loaded on the boats. There was something interesting about seeing all this and smelling the fresh fish and salt the blew in from the water.

Sadly our time was coming to an end, but I promised myself I would return. (And it would be a photographing/exploring weekend of Boston). There was so much to see and I simply didn’t want the weekend to end. But when you’re having a great time, feeling so good and with those close to you – who ever wants that time to end?

So when I leave places it’s never “goodbye,” but always “I’ll see you again.”

And I will, Boston.

I will see you again.