Fleeting Artistry
There is no such thing as an unremarkable day at a lighthouse – even with familiarity’s tendency to suppress one’s awareness for scattered, subtle delights. Yes, at first glance nothing out of the ordinary may be discerned, and if you work at a lighthouse like I do, the quandary is compounded by a list of tasks that seem as predictable as they are necessary. Sifting through the routine and mundane for unobtrusive fascination requires some keen perceptibility.
Yet, there is always something fresh to experience if we look intently enough – even if it is gleaned from one or more of the subtle layers amidst the fabric of a lighthouse. It was the morning of August 7, 2024 – National Lighthouse Day, when, during my typical routine at Owls Head Lighthouse, I journeyed up to the brawny tower to check on the 1000-watt lamps inside the fourth order Fresnel lens.
As I climbed through the lantern hatch, I reached for the handhold along the parapet. My grip was made tight, when no sooner did I observe the tall panes of glass heavily laden with moisture. Overnight the temperature had cooled significantly, which was a stark contrast to the warmer atmosphere inside the lantern.
The condensation was considerable. Still, as much as this wet cloak diffused the shining light when viewing the scene from outside the lantern gallery, the innumerable droplets gracing the panes – and the interplay with light’s radiance passing though, was nothing short of captivating.
After checking on the lamp, which was watching properly, I could not let the sun expunge such natural artistry without capturing its fleeting beauty and intrigue. As I took images of nature’s handiwork, I reflected upon the regulations of the bygone Lighthouse Service and how they required the lighthouse keeper to prevent such condensation from accumulating along the glass panes. Not even the thinnest of layers or patchy swathes were permitted.
Nonetheless, on this day I could only admire the woven allure of artistry upon a canvas of glass.