A thick blanket of fog settled over Penobscot Bay yesterday morning, covering the streets of Camden in a ghostly haze. The visibility was close to zero, and the air was heavy, almost as if the outside world was nowhere to be found. As the afternoon progressed, the fog burned off and a lovely southwest breeze kicked up off the ocean, warming the air and providing for yet another spectacular September day. Down in Port Clyde, the Georges Islands were hazy in the distance. The sun sparkled on the harbor, and the famous pointed firs of the St. George Peninsula swayed back and forth from Hupper Island, down to Marshall Point. In the General Store, a few lobstermen chatted in front of the register. "She was choppy out there today," one of them commented. "But we got a good smoky Sou'wester kicking up today." The wind on the Maine coast tends to come from the southwest, and when it pushes off the morning fog, the horizon becomes "smoky," as the lobstermen put it. The outer islands look dreamlike when this blend of wind and fog swirls around them, and the ocean turns a deep shade of blue. The air is balmy, yet cool at the same time, as the retreating fog gives way to the approaching southwest winds. As the evening hour arrived, I walked down my road to the beach, my faithful Nikon at the ready. The path to the water was overgrown with wild flowers, sea grass and lichen. The sun appeared misty as it filtered down through the pine trees. The beach was quiet, and the tide was dead low. The breeze off the bay was heavenly, and the seagulls, terns and eiders of the beach soared in it's windy wake. I dug my feet in the cool sand and let the water wash over my feet. I took a deep breath and reveled in my surroundings. Thank god I live here, I thought, because if you ever happen to visit Maine in September, it could be dangerous. You may never leave!
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