Acadia National Park - Acadia to me and my family - is one of the most sacred places in our collective mythology. Since 1983, we have been re-invigorated, soul-nourished, and inspired by its rocky glacial mountains, pine and birch forests, rugged coastline, and quintessential Maine harbor towns. Our many visits to Acadia over the decades have made it a part of family culture and a place experienced throughout multiple phases of life - childhood, adolescence, early adulthood, parenthood.
For me, the word Acadia evokes powerful mental images: rest and reflection at the campsite, sunny group hikes on the many “mountains” of Mount Desert Island, the stimulation of Bar Harbor’s shops, and glimpses from the car window at coastal vistas between the rush of passing lines of pine trees. Acadia delivers a feast for the senses - the fog-shrouded coastal vistas, the smell of salt air, echoes of camper voices across the campground, buttery pastries, hissing gas lanterns at night, and the steady rhythmic crashing of surf upon the rocky shore.
The impact of Acadia on the soul is profound and absolute. It is one of those few places where magic is in the air and permeates everything down to the smallest pebble and you feel the privilege to be there.
All photos © Jeff Kiess