I would never advise anyone looking for solitude to come to Maine during the summer months. Maine is glorious, it truly is, but summer in Maine brings legions of people who use “summer” as a verb. There isn’t anything “wrong” with these folks, they are just doing what we all do, looking for a glorious place near the ocean where we can disconnect.(Or sit and do my Blurb work.) But seeing as Maine is so close to the massive hubs of the northeast, this place gets overrun. Locals will often make faces as they talk about enduring summer more than enjoying it. I get it. I live in a tourist destination as well, and sometimes during peak season it can be a bit much.
But what’s interesting here is that Mother Nature still holds the cards, and if solitude is what you want, well, you can still find it depending on your willingness to get wet. Rain here is the on/off switch of life. For those of us from dry climates, this style of heavy, drenching rain is blissful. For others, mostly tourists from other wet parts of the country, rain is the worst case scenario. Trapped in their hotel rooms packed with far too many people for any normal health code, they ride out weather like prisoners waiting for their last meal. But for those willing to embrace nature in their face, solitude awaits.
This image was made at a beach that is normally jammed with people. At high tide they ride up against the seawall waiting for rogue waves to take their technology. At low tide, and during periods early and late, masses of humans and their animals strut between protruding points of land. The beach is wide, low ,and flat. Near perfection. And when it rains, it’s a ghost town. And this is when I get excited. I get on my bike and head into the juicy abyss. A snap here, a snap there. An appreciation for my fellow weather lovers. An appreciation for those who know they will eventually dry out. Places of solitude are where I feel most at home. Places where my mind feels like it can unwind and spin up like a turbo waiting for the green light. So, if you need solitude, just know it’s there waiting for you, in the rain.
Comments 17
Funny to read this peace sitting in my yellow wooden house in the Swedish forest, 6 miles from the next sign of civilization. First serious rain tonight after some weeks of heat up here, just like the rest of Europe had to endure. Still had BBQ under an umbrella. No tourists in sight.
Author
Man, that sounds really good. A Swedish cabin. We had BBQ last night too….
Oh man, I get ya! Few weeks ago, (Dunno if it’ll let me link to the photo but here’s a try: https://mathieuchiasson.com/img/blog/2023-07-12-st-andrews-foggy-morning.jpg) same waters as Maines. This foggy morning, not a soul in sight, actually when me and my friend arrived we came across these two dog owners and they just said “lose you on the beach”. I kinda chuckled at the comment. Depending the region tides in the bay can go up and down between 10 to 50 feet so the ocean floor is just endless at low tides (it was endless, I never reached the water). Anyhow, it was complete stillness. Dogs? Never heard or saw them, lose them we did, their car was gone by the time we got back. I lost track of time and space. I’m built for solitude.
P.S.: It wasn’t raining, but getting up before 7am will also get you some peace in tourist areas.
Author
I also find it more and more difficult to find solitude, just based on the crazy amount of development in the world. So, when I find it…i appreciate.
Every summer I pray for the Mallorcan winter to arrive; every winter I’m so cold I tell myself I must have been crazy to wish away the summer. This year, we have broken temperature records. The heat is coming across the Med from the Sahara, and with it, the dust that covers the cars and fills the terrace with brown, creating swirling eddies of dirt as I sweep the surface out in the morning. It’s not good for the lungs, it’s not good for the soul: it makes one lazy. The car remains dirty except for the glass, which gets a wash just so I don’t get done in case of an accident. The southern bits of the mainland are getting it worse: I think they hit just over 44 degrees C today, compared with my 35 C. Agriculture is dying/drying out with the reservoirs, and three farm workers died of heat this past week or two. At the same time, parts of the country have been having torrential rain and hail, cars swept down streets that turn into roaring rivers in less than an hour.
Oddly enough – or predictably – Sky News over in the UK has spent at least two days talking about almost nothing other than some silly BBC host guy who apparently paid some teenager a lot of money for a series of sexy snaps. That’s the UK bottom feeder world for you: we’re in imminent danger of meeting general starvation in the first world, and would they but raise their eyes above their belts they might see this and do some worthwhile reporting. But nope, when all the vegetables grown under southern Spanish plastic sheeting can no longer be watered, when wheat and meat’s mostly off the shelves and that which isn’t is too expensive for folks to buy, that news channel and all the others of similar elevated viewer aspirations will say wow, how surprising, how did that happen?
This world is truly effed up. Starvation is and has been rampant for decades in so many lands, yet folks find comfort in looking the other way, imagining things will just carry on as usual for “us” despite the climatic changes we can all see and feel.
On Channel 2 of the national tv service, they ran, today, a further episode of a documentary on the Galapagos Islands. Poor little me: I had fondly imagined they were protected from tourism. How wrong can one be! If there’s one thing that Spanish tv does brilliantly, it’s to devote so much time to documentary programmes: you can find hours of it every day if you want to do so.
Author
There’s no money in truth. And half the population is dead already, lost in their little glass screens. The news has to say “this is news.” which means the end is near. Tourism is another plague. Guess I’m part of it as well. I’m a carrier.
My cycling/hiking friend (originally from Boston) thinks I’m crazy because I prefer going out to ride or hike in the rain or bad weather. I invite him every time, he always says no, so I often end up alone soaked through and covered in mud, but I love it. Nobody about and you get to feel nature’s elements in their purest form.
Wonderful photo, by the way. I’ve never understood the need to get up close to take photos of people. I much prefer it when they are a tiny part of the frame like here.
Author
Thanks amigo. I hope to hike in the rain with you one day. I’ve GOT to get to your part of the world. My father walked in the rain. It was his favorite thing in the world.
It’s pretty much the same on any beach on the east coast in summer. Winter is my beach time, the Outer Banks especially, deserted, rough, the wind whipping the sand, yep.
Author
LOVE winter on the coast. Any coast.
One of the most stunning photos I took during a recent trip, were when there was a spring tide and a heavy storm happening at the same time. I was on holiday as well, and the easy way would’ve been to read a book until it all passes. But I didn’t. I came back wet until my undies, but with a smile from ear to ear. And with some awesome photos at the coast line.
Author
At some point you get so wet nothing else matters….
Welcome back to Maine! I Outside of my military service I’ve been a life-long resident. It’s been almost two months of being either cloudy or raining here in Maine and a lot of us are sick of it. Like you mentioned, there are some benefits. Another benefit is not being in a drought or suffering from a heat wave like many states are experiencing. All things considered, I’ll take Maine any day–even with all of the rain.
I really love this image. It sticks with me. can move around in it, feels at home and calm down. It evokes memories from places I have been and spent time. It could easily be a gritty day on the beaches in Newcastle (Tynemouth) and as such transports me back to my student days in the mid 80’s.
Author
Very nice of you. Took more time to take the camera off my back than it did to make the image.
Solitude is the new gold. You have to search for it and dig it up and when found and savoured, keep the gards outside because they will rip it out of your cold stif hands.
Author
Yes, harder and harder to mine.