I discovered Owl's Head State Park this morning while dropping off materials at one of Jim's job sites. The thought of a quiet walk along the foggy coast was just too tempting for this Downeast girl. I was not disappointed in my quest for solitude as mine was the lone car in the puddle spotted dirt lot.
With only the sounds of pounding surf, crunching gravel, and the gulls overhead, I followed the sound of the fog horn until it brought me to the headland and the lighthouse that occupies it.
Some might have been disappointed that there was no view but not me. I'd rather be surrounded by the salty mist of the fog, which always brings out the wistful, melancholy me. I'm betting that anyone who grew up along the Maine coast knows exactly how I feel.
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