My dad grew up in Biddeford, Maine (south of Portland) and spent his summers in Old Orchard Beach. My mother’s parents would rent a house on the coast during the summers when I was much younger, and all I can remember from those days is climbing through the rocks that lined the shore. Because of this, I have a certain affinity for Down East (the coast of Maine). So when my in-laws decided to take a vacation to Bar Harbor, I was excited to be able to personally revisit some of my childhood memories.
We took a small boat around the harbors, and saw many of the lighthouses that dot the coastline. The stones along the coast longed to be climbed on, but that was a long while ago. My son, Kemper, is as old as I was then, and he would love the (relative) safety of climbing on the rocks of the bay (versus the cherry tree in my parents’ front yard, which mercifully died before I got too big for the topmost branches to hold me). He is not a risk-taker, for which I am very grateful. His impulsivity would not be well met by fearlessness.
Although I usually prefer black and white photographs, the contrasts of the trees and coastline to the skies and water were to beautiful to reduce to monochrome. For whatever reason, the photographs I have taken in Maine tend to end up in color. This is a testament to the natural beauty of Down East (and to the fact that I always visit in the summer).
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