Dark at 4
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Flights to and from Portland Jetport (PWM) never leave on time and always run late. Thick fog often blankets the bay, limiting hourly traffic at the one-horse airport. In the cold months (September to April), Nor'Easters sporadically slam into the coast adding another layer of flight delays. At first, these delays pissed me off like a scratched DVD from Netflix. After hours spent meandering through the magazine shops in airports , I realized that these systematic delays contributed to the remote appeal of Maine.
Without fail, fog and rain delayed my flight to Portland from LaGuardia the Tuesday before Thanksgiving. Excited to have nothing better to do than read emails and articles on my phone, I waited at the gate. On the flight, I sat at the window, face pressed against the safety glass watching the lights pass miles bellow. Flying out over the Connecticut sound and up 95 through Mass and New Hampshire, the pilot signaled the initial approach some 25 minutes into the flight.
For the next three days, I wondered the familiar country with my college roommate and frequent accomplice, Tucker.
Higgins Beach.
The Old Port, Portland.
Cape Elizabeth.
A Portland land mark.
Darkness descended early with shadows stretching eastward at 2:30. By 4, the last glimmers of light bounced around the clouds before sinking down for a sixteen hour night.
Red, yellow and green.
I like this hanging light.
The last leaves of fall.
