Like many from New England I spent summers at camp in Maine sleeping in weathered cabins with autograph covered walls, in rented seaside quirky cottages on the Cape with porches with sky-blue painted ceilings and handrails made from thick fisherman's rope, smoothed to a shine from one hundred years of guiding the way up steep good morning stairs. Trips on ferries were always better when your fellow passengers included tri-colored labs named for harbors and seaside towns.
We only showered outdoors with the sky above and sheltered by silvered cedar after an afternoon spent sailing. Beach towels doubled as signal flags as they hung from the deck railing and the "secret" key could be found under the sun-bleached clamshell by the unlocked front door.
Nothing was perfect, yet everything was. The slipcovered furniture was permanently wrinkled, the smell of sunscreen and salt spray infused every fiber and grains of sand could be found in the most curious of places.
It is my hope that you find yourself reminiscing of a time you spent near the water, with family, friends or alone. I am so glad you came to visit and I hope you find something to take home with you or better yet, something for someone you love as much as I love the sea.