Wild Seas Lighthouse Necklace
Safe and Sound, Home is Near
Imagine being on a wooden ship two hundred years ago on a moonless night with whipping winds, steady rain, and swells rolling under the hull. It’s pitch black, and a rocky coastline is close. No motor. No satellite map to assist. A beam of flashing light or the rhythmic boom of a foghorn in the distance would be the most welcome assurance. Your guide for a safe return home
Europe has castles; America has lighthouses. People are drawn to these monuments by the sea. The lights speak to an age when so many livelihoods depended on the ocean and overcoming its tempestuous moods.
Wild Seas Lighthouse Necklace
Safe and Sound, Home is Near
Swirling sapphire seas leap around the lighthouse tower, while high above, in the lantern room, a single white diamond glows bright. The journey’s been long. The guiding light, reaching out into the night, is a welcome sight. Home is near.
This piece is land meeting sea. The gold tower stands strong. A beacon of hope and welcome. Your guide for a safe return home.
We Played Tourists
2020, and Two Memorable Lighthouses -S.L.P
Nubble Lighthouse – In early March 2020, just before all our lives changed in ways few predicted, my wife and I went on a weekend overnight down in York, Maine. The Inn bustled with couples, families, even a wedding party. It was a fun one-night getaway exploring a quiet coastal town with dinner out and the absence of a three-year-old to wake us up in the morning.
On the way home we took the slow scenic route. The wind had been steady that weekend. The waves were big. We stopped often to watch the surf on the way to Cape Neddick. At Nubble Point many were there to see Nubble Lighthouse which sits on a small island across a narrow channel of water. We talked about what the life of the lighthouse keeper must have been like over 100 years ago – the challenges, and deep sense of responsibility the light keepers must have felt to guide mariners safely home.
I Went Down to the Lighthouse
Bass Harbor Head – June 2020, we headed north this time on a camping trip to Bass Harbor on Mt. Desert Island. The island was covid-quiet. Almost all the cars were from Maine, a rarity around Acadia National Park in summer. Our campground was within a mile of Bass Harbor Head Lighthouse.
One evening, while my wife and son prepped for bedtime, I went down to the lighthouse around sunset. I climbed out onto the rocks. The air was still, the ocean smooth. I watched as boats headed home in the fading golden light. The lighthouse was nearly hidden from where I sat, surrounded by spruce trees, perched above salmon-colored cliffs. A silent sentry. After twenty minutes it was time to get back to camp, back to my family.
