Our feet bounced on the spongy ground of the boggy, moss and fern covered forest floor.  The air was filled with the sharp, sweet smell of the cedar and tamarack trees that towered over us and there was the ever recognizable smell of damp earth.  It all assailed the senses but the symphony of foghorns made the greatest impression.   From our position on this rocky head we could hear the horns of three lighthouses sounding; each in their own unique pattern and pitch.  The sounds wound around each other in an ever changing song.  Soothing.  Comforting.  Eerie. Mesmerizing.

Fleeting openings in the low clouds and fog gave us glimpses of nearby islands, lobster boats, and a bald eagle.  We even saw the red and white stripe painted lighthouse….briefly.