Maine 2026 Day 3: Bar Harbor Sunset

 

Sunset from Town Pier, Bar Harbor

6 July 2026

When we arrived in Bar Harbor on May 27, the first thing I did after unloading the car was to go out onto the balcony and take pictures of the Porcupine Islands.

Even little cruise ships are too big.

It was chilly. I'd packed an assortment of layers, one of which is a denim jacket that permanently houses a pair of gloves. 

We walked down the Shore Path to get to the southern side of town.

I'd forgotten that repairs are being made to the breakwater between Mount Desert Island and Bald Porcupine Island. 

We passed a raft of eider ducks. Or the raft of eider ducks passed us.

The Shore Path turns inland at Wayman Lane, the site of Party House. The house has been sold and is no longer available for rentals. The new owners have torn down the fence, removed the wooden overhang and the long table on the side, and have ripped up the front yard.

I glanced over at Snow Street as we passed, but Exile House, where I stayed, wasn't visible from where we were. All I could see was the hedges.

We went to McKay's for dinner, as we often do on our first night. They have heaters, and it was just warm enough to sit outdoors.

The cloud cover wasn't complete. The sky was starting to light up. I figured there might be a worthy sunset. We had to scurry, but I got there in time.

I lay on my stomach on the floating dock and aimed my Canon PowerShot through the hole of a cleat. Unlike last year, I checked the focus this time.

The Canon makes the sky too orange, especially when I zoom in. My phone ends up too pink. I was switching between the two as the sun went down.

After the sun had gone behind the trees, I turned around and looked up to see the moon. This photo was freehand with the Canon.

Windows facing the harbor reflected the last of the day's light.

The Geddy's moose, its antler LEDs in need of adjustment, was lit.

What's a Bar Harbor photo without that boat, the Margaret Todd?

On the pier's boat ramp, someone had chalked an elaborate bird, which, best we could figure, was trying to say "skwawk."

Now that it was dark, it was time to check the balcony for spiders. Given the temperature, I wasn't expecting much, and that's what I got. There was one young Zygiella atrica with a web against the wall by the railing.

One evening, one sunset, one Ziggy. We were off to a good start.