The crashing waves of the original series at Otter Cliffs, are a few miles from where I write. The fictional town of Collinsport is part Bar Harbor, Seal Harbor and Winter Harbor, all belonging to the coast of Mount Desert Island (MDI) of which a large proportion is Acadia National Park home to deer, red squirrels, falcons, beavers, bald headed eagles and thousands of tourists who swarm here throught the summer months.
But what of Dark Shadows I hear you ask? Well my tale is more nightmares under the surface than Johnny Depp.
But really you have to wait until the sun goes down for the dark shadows to emerge. Take the shore path, preferably on a semi cloudy night, so to view the arms of the Milky Way spiraling out over the heavens. The bells of the buoys sets a haunting tempo to which the waves join in regular rhythm. Each wave a heart beat, the ocean one giant entity stretching across the planet. With only a few rounded peaks on the horizon, illuminated from distant towns the horizon seems relatively flat giving this northern latitude a sense of being at the top of the world.
But tonight I’m drawn from the warmth of a crackling wood-stove to take the shore path to the terrifying yet thrilling faceless ocean, she acts like a mirror to my own fears calling to me of my own dark shadows.
As I look out over these faceless waves the act as a mirror for my own dark shadows. I can’t ever walk too close to the unreaillinged pier edge, as i fear I’d succumb to some ancient curse and fall off the edge – albeit it not quite so beautifully haunting as Victoria looks, with her dress billowing out, nor will I look quite so stunningly serene as my broken body lays on the rocks below. Curses and tales of woe for those lost at sea still hide in hidden coves, of galley ships smashed upon the rocks in full swell of a raging storm, and of the tears of women standing atop desolate cliffs looking seawards for menfolk lost at sea. Curses uttered to seamen who took the advice and charms of wise women but never brought their share of the catch.
I feel the pull of my dark shadows hidden deep, deep under the waves, morphing and changing, intertwining with great unseen currents, lapping into the swell of the unconscious to visit me in dreams. Yet they are the accumulation of dark shadows, belonging to humanity, swirling and waiting in our collective unsconscious.