Today’s dawn was welcomed with warmth and pure sunlight, a cloudless blue celestial sphere. I couldn’t possibly decline an invitation to be outdoors on a day that greets me with such a beautiful morning, so I agreed to join a friend at Bare Cove Park in Hingham.
I had never been there before, so I had driven around a bit, quite lost as to the exact location I was supposed to meet my friend. That’s when I stumbled on this building. Though it was in evident disrepair and disuse, it called out to me, sighing for me to notice its presence. There was something slightly alluring about focusing on absolute decay when it was such a gloriously beautiful day. Even the building itself was a great contrast, with all grey and then one single bright blue door, as though the paint refused to fade despite the years of sun beating down on its face.
After I’d gotten home, I researched Bare Cove, interested in the history of the place. It was too old not to have a story to tell. It turns out that it used to belong to the United States Navy and up until 1971, its primary use was an ammunition depot. The majority of the arsenal utilized at the European front in World War II was developed on this land. In 1945, the depot had the highest population with over 2,000 residents living on the base. This lone building was one of ninety. The depot was withdrawn from active service in 1961, but the Navy didn’t relinquish the land to the town of Hingham until ten years later.
The majority of that history belongs to that park we walked through today. It’s hard to imagine that such a peaceful place was once bustling and energetic. If I hadn’t confused my directions, I might not have captured the essence that has given me the desire to explore the park further. It’s amazing what you’ll find, especially when you get lost. Inconveniences are still experiences and if you keep your eyes open, you’ll find potential, even in the least likely of scenarios.