Every Storm Passes
With more leaves covering the ground than adorning the trees of late and the air growing brisker as the days grow shorter, it was only a matter of time before the first gale of the storm season swept in over the coast of Maine.
Though, in the end, its punch was lacking much in the way of fury, the gale of November 1 was no doubt a reminder of things to come. From here forward, the cheery, colorful face of autumn is but a memory as time marches headlong toward the coldest months of the year.
Yet, the steady transition from warm to chill can do little to douse the year-round charm of the rugged Maine coast, for as barren and brown as the landscape is fast becoming, there remains an undeniable beauty that is ideally suited to endure the power of the lashing tempest and frigid air in the offing.
As I ventured out into the storm’s rain and wind on the morning of November 1st, I was reminded once again that beauty’s fascination is not relegated to the realm of grace and delicacy. Though the rain pelted my face and the sea was stirred by the irresistible coaxing of the wind, a sense of wonder filled the air; whetting my appetite for what is to come on the broad shoulders of the winter northeasters.
Intriguing and beautiful – in their own way, as storms can be, there is still more to behold. For when the power of the gale has been spent and it’s time for moving out to sea arrives, in the wake of fury is often found a gift of spectacular radiance that reminds us that every storm does indeed pass.
True to form, such a serene scene presented itself in fine fashion at Marshall Point Lighthouse during the late afternoon on November 1st, which stood in stark contrast to the frenzied seascape I had witnessed at Rockland Breakwater earlier that day.
Only during late fall and winter does beauty show its duel personality of strength and elegance with such a profound passion, so bring on the gales and the marvel of the experience!
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