This would not be a day at the beach!

Photographing the Maine coast would be more complicated than I thought. For instance, a reconstruction of an entry tollbooth was ongoing in a nearby state park. After going out at dawn with some photographic success, the ranger tells me on leaving, “This is a construction site. I could fine you for trespassing!” This was just the beginning.

I had been distracted traveling to several national parks out West,  but then I noticed that I had very few photos of the Maine coast. I’m from Maine, so I wanted to connect with this landscape on a personal level. The problem was access. The first few months were all obstacle. A lighthouse stairway had fallen apart, leaving the public banned from the site. They had to raise money to begin repairs. I could only see a second lighthouse from the ledges in the tidal zone. But in Maine, tidal zones are private property. Trespassing carried risks. So a no-go zone. Then there was that state park ranger. I considered my options.

I researched other photographers’ posts on landscape suggestions. I found several sites near my home. One fish shack was next to a woman’s house, which wouldn't allow parking,  but a neighbor invited me into their driveway instead. A second shack was best in the midst of a snowstorm. No one was in the parking lot to object. And a third area was perfect at dawn, exuberant in color during high tide. Ultimately, the tollbooth was finished, the ranger was a bit happier, and I finally completed over two dozen trips to that site for the perfect shot.

I had some exciting images. The coast for all its exclusivity still has enough access to make one yearn for more: more waves, sunrises, granite ledges, more tidal pools, and lobster shacks. I found plenty to keep me busy, wondering how crazy-scenic this state can be and how helpful and kind Mainers are.

I still hear the crash of waves from my childhood.