One of the best places to be in summer is Midcoast Maine at Maine Windjammer Association events. For the past 12 years, people from everywhere have thrilled to these events, which include the "Parade of Sail" — historic windjammers sailing on Penobscot Bay, with colorful furled sails and magnificent wooden hulls that are reminiscent of the 19th century. This past Labor Day my wife Carol and I joined Capts. Nigel and Bonnie, and others aboard the windjammer Heron. Though I am not a sailor, I anticipated this event with growing excitement. When the day finally came, and I stepped aboard the Heron, and saw the other classic windjammers — I was raised to a whole new level. We had an opportunity to sail in the midst of these great ships, and get a close-up look at the magnificent way they meet the water. I had tremendous emotion as we sailed past Camden Harbor, and judging from the crowds in attendance, this feeling was shared by many.

Growing up, my earliest exposure to boating was on Damariscotta Lake, where I relished the trips taken on my uncle's Chris Craft. Later in life, in Manhattan, I couldn't resist every chance I had to be sailing — on the Hudson, New York Harbor and Long Island Sound. As I saw the expressions of wonder on the faces of my fellow sailors on the Heron, it occurred to me that most people are like me — they can't resist the pull of the sail. There is the alluring beauty in billowing sails as a ship glides through the water. Then, too, there is a feeling of freedom and adventure being out at sea — a feeling of being at one with the elements — the waves, the breeze, the salt air. Even from the shore, a person can feel part of something big, and beautiful.

As a photographer I am very interested in why something is beautiful, and also how to show beauty through the pictures I take. The basis of my work is the education Aesthetic Realism founded by the great critic and poet Eli Siegel. He stated this groundbreaking principle: "All beauty is a making one of opposites, and the making one of opposites is what we are going after in ourselves." It is my careful opinion that sailing is greatly cared for because it puts reality's opposites together, the same opposites that we hope to make sense of in ourselves. I describe one instance of what I mean.

1. Rest and motion of a Windjammer
Who hasn't felt restless at times, distracted, restless — and at another time felt stuck, reluctant to move from the couch? I've learned that these opposites, which can trouble any person, are in a good relation in our bodies, as blood circulates at great velocity even as we may be very still. I was excited thinking about the fact that windjammers never fail to show that these wonderful opposites can be seen in a dynamic and friendly relation. As I looked out on the water, I was affected by how the ships, like the Heritage, appeared to glide over the surface with seemingly little effort — almost as if they weren't moving. Its sails were full and caught by the wind, with their whiteness contrasted by a clear blue sky. The windjammer looked proud making its way across the water, and I felt proud just looking at it. As the Heron approached the Heritage from different points, I had a chance to see the excited expressions on the faces of those who were aboard her. The shapes of individual sails affected me as the sunlight showed off their detail — how they both resisted and yielded to the wind. As we passed the stern of the Heritage, I was in awe of a kind of majesty it took on as the light passed through its spreading mainsail while its mast rose up straight and vertical into the sky.

A writer I love, James Fenimore Cooper (1789-1851), is one of the most important and prolific writers about the sea. It was through reading Cooper that my own love of sailing began. For instance, he has a moving passage in his novel, The Water Witch, which relates rest and motion in a way that is dynamic, mysterious and unforgettable.

"The brigantine...opened the folds of all her sails, and there arose a pyramid of canvas over the nearly imperceptible hull, that resembled a fantastic cloud driving above the sea, with a velocity that seemed to rival the passage of vapor that floated in the upper air....Hour passed after hour, and were it not for the sheets of white foam that were dashed from the bows of the Coquette, and the manner in which she even outstripped the caps of the combing waves, her commander might have fancied his vessel ever in the same spot."

I felt something like this taking place as windjammers sailed about Camden Harbor, and I was awestruck.

I came away from this experience with a much greater appreciation of the meaning that sailing has, and how symbolic it is of our largest desire which, I've learned, is to be in a good and useful relation to the world. Sailing can be a means of that. The harbors and coastline of Midcoast Maine are unique and special places that provide some of the most satisfying experiences in life and I look forward to returning.

For more information about the events and tje sailing ships, visit The Maine Windjammer Association.

Harvey Spears is a photographer/writer who is from New York and Maine and loves photographing in Maine. His work has appeared on the Maine state website, and the magazines Maine Fish and Wildlife and the Maine Art Scene. It has also appeared in photographic exhibitions, newspapers and photographic journals, including the February 2015 Landscape Photography Magazine. He can be contacted by email at redmonkey2@mac.com and his website is harveyspears.com.