midcoast north to down east

There are few things I love more than a foggy day along the Maine coast. Even bustling coastal villages seem calmer on foggy days. It’s as if a sense of reverence settles over the land. While the historic villages, harbors and lobster pounds rightly command attention, I am drawn to quieter places—the water’s edge, islands and woodlands. And though lighthouses and sailing ships are considered quintessential Maine, I am more interested in the colors and patterns on rocks, the way seaweed moves in the tide, and all things that wash ashore or live in tidal pools. I also love the simple, vernacular architecture—the white clapboard or faded shingle homes up and down the finger roads—their charm more understated than the grand Victorians found in thriving towns. It’s a slower pace I’m seeking, one that allows me to reconnect with the land, the sea and myself.