Tuesday, February 08, 2011
Phonophoto of the day
A house in Maine that fronted the shore often had a row of rocks on the other side, facing the road. Usually the rocks were painted white to make them more easily visible to motorists during rain or fog, and I suspect they were there in the first place to keep those same motorists from driving off the road onto whatever little grass separated house from street. We had a row of rocks lining our driveway, but they were unpainted, because if you were in our little gravel driveway, you'd already left the roadway, cleared the line of pine trees, and presumably meant to come see us.
At the back of the little cove just across the street from our cottage, there were enormous rocks, much bigger even than these, just in front of the sea wall. At highest tide when the ocean rushed in, it would sometimes slam angrily against the large rocks and frothy sprays of water would sort of shoot up, but generally the cove was quiet, a haven of perpetual tidepools sporting slick, bright green seaweed that looked like troll doll hair.