Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Little Cat Feet

It was raining again today, so Heidi, Louise, and I headed east to Machias. The town itself was a bit underwhelming, but the fog we encountered along the way almost made up for it. As we rolled along the coastal highway, the sea was invisible, but gray stands of balsam and fir emerged from misty shrouds at the edges of ghostly blueberry fields. It was never a solid bank of gloom; we could always see just far enough ahead to wonder what else was out there, and it shifted so that what was visible might be completely obscured when next you looked.

Stephen King is from Maine. Enough said?

No comments:

Post a Comment