Last week, two Nor'easters slammed into the Maine coast, bringing 90 mph winds and 20-foot waves. The harsh weather uprooted 100 year-old trees and flooded much of the coastal area. Twelve hours separated the two storms and on Friday afternoon a group of close friends and I went to the coast to watch the waves crash in.
The crashing of the waves a half mile away blocked out the thudding of the car doors as we eagerly hopped out of the car and set off for the beach.
Our Danners in action.
A pink haze floated around the beach like patchouli oil at a jam band festival in Vermont, making the thunder of the waves feel distant and nonthreatening.
There is something both endearing and dangerous about big storms. Nick dodging spray.
For hours we wandered around the abandoned park, captivated by the constant thundering of waves and the bright colors diffused by the humid air.
Spencer's Danners Mountain Light II boots, APC New Standards jeans, Seil Marschall backpack, and a Blistex wear mark.
I don't know if it's Hell or Heaven, but I am drawn to it none the less.
Spencer snapping an instant with his Polaroid 210 Land Camera.
White foam covered the beach, offering insight into the ferocity of the past storm and an idea of what the coming storm would offer.