Bass Harbor Head Light

from $79.99

There’s something funny about photographing Bass Harbor Head Light. There are a million photos of it from nearly the same angle, and its special each and every time. Everyone thinks the hardest part is scrambling over the rocks, but honestly, the real battle is the parking lot. It fills up in minutes, and once you’re in, you’ve better not have forgotten anything! There's no store, no walking anywhere and no alternate parking.

My friends and I were all there for our first times, and it was one of our birthdays. We got there way too early, found the spot and a big, flat, comfy rock. We spread out our things and did a little exploring. The tide was low enough to walk across the rocks without slipping, although we stayed cautious, taking photographs in the tide pools. The mosquitoes weren’t too terrible, and the whole place had that quiet, sleepy feeling Acadia gets before sunset.... until it got closer and closer when the crowds rushed for the precious few parking spaces in the final daylight hours. We were pretty much done taking the photos we wanted, so we did some people watching, ate birthday cake, and sipped on bubbles.

The sky that night started out pretty calm, but as the sun dropped, it just exploded with color. Streaks of orange and pink spread across the clouds like someone dragged a paintbrush through the sky. Birthday fireworks! Best way to celebrate in a National Park. No fires started. No animals scared. There was even a tiny crescent moon hanging there, almost too perfect. I can't even take credit for alignment or planning. This was one of those happy little coincidences. The lighthouse’s red lantern glowed just enough to help us stumble back up the rocks in the dark because we also stayed way too late. It’s easy to forget how wild the coastline really is until you’re standing on those jagged rocks looking up at this little white lighthouse tucked into the trees like it’s pretending to be shy and the open Atlantic behind you. Here and there you can hear little splashes and chortles of seals gulping air before diving back down hunting fish.

This photo is what makes all that waiting worth it. Hours of sitting, climbing, adjusting, and hoping, all for those few minutes where everything lines up just right.

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There’s something funny about photographing Bass Harbor Head Light. There are a million photos of it from nearly the same angle, and its special each and every time. Everyone thinks the hardest part is scrambling over the rocks, but honestly, the real battle is the parking lot. It fills up in minutes, and once you’re in, you’ve better not have forgotten anything! There's no store, no walking anywhere and no alternate parking.

My friends and I were all there for our first times, and it was one of our birthdays. We got there way too early, found the spot and a big, flat, comfy rock. We spread out our things and did a little exploring. The tide was low enough to walk across the rocks without slipping, although we stayed cautious, taking photographs in the tide pools. The mosquitoes weren’t too terrible, and the whole place had that quiet, sleepy feeling Acadia gets before sunset.... until it got closer and closer when the crowds rushed for the precious few parking spaces in the final daylight hours. We were pretty much done taking the photos we wanted, so we did some people watching, ate birthday cake, and sipped on bubbles.

The sky that night started out pretty calm, but as the sun dropped, it just exploded with color. Streaks of orange and pink spread across the clouds like someone dragged a paintbrush through the sky. Birthday fireworks! Best way to celebrate in a National Park. No fires started. No animals scared. There was even a tiny crescent moon hanging there, almost too perfect. I can't even take credit for alignment or planning. This was one of those happy little coincidences. The lighthouse’s red lantern glowed just enough to help us stumble back up the rocks in the dark because we also stayed way too late. It’s easy to forget how wild the coastline really is until you’re standing on those jagged rocks looking up at this little white lighthouse tucked into the trees like it’s pretending to be shy and the open Atlantic behind you. Here and there you can hear little splashes and chortles of seals gulping air before diving back down hunting fish.

This photo is what makes all that waiting worth it. Hours of sitting, climbing, adjusting, and hoping, all for those few minutes where everything lines up just right.