Tom McLaughlin: Lighthouses

Not too long ago, I promised myself I would avoid photographing lighthouses because everyone does that. Galleries in Portland, Maine’s Old Port district are loaded with paintings and photographs of lighthouses. When cruise ships tie up in Portland Harbor, local artisans set up their tables along Commercial Street selling all sorts of things, but what do you see the most of? Lighthouses. There are ceramic lighthouses, trivets with lighthouses, coffee cups with lighthouses, as well as paintings and photographs of lighthouses. Cruise ship passengers from around the world walk by and scoop them up.

Now, however, I have dozens of lighthouse photos, hundreds maybe. Our South Portland, Maine, house is five minutes from two of them and 10 minutes from two more. Because I always have a camera with me, and all four lighthouses are situated in places I visit often — beautiful public parks or on state-owned land by the sea — I’ve become captivated by the lighthouse mystique. Maybe it’s their simple, functional design. Maybe it’s because they’re safety beacons situated in places of both great natural beauty and also great danger. Whatever it is, I’ll likely be taking hundreds more images of them before I’m dead.