Strips of tinsel still hung from its branches. In a matter of hours, the tree β like dozens that filled the beach β would be transformed into a pile of ash left from the town's New Year's bonfire. By sunset, the flames rose to more than 20 feet. A thick plume of smoke floated over the pier. The beach air filled with a mix of burning pine, ocean breeze and the scent of frying kettle corn.
As the trees burned, those gathered on the beach balanced anxieties over the future with dreams of a bright new year: sharing goals of personal and business growth, maintaining their health and comfort, and forging better relationships with their neighbors. But earlier, as the crowds trickled onto the beach and the sun began to set, Eccleston, 68, said he planned to be at home for the annual spectacle.
But he was glad his tree could contribute to the fun. And I figure this is more fun," he said. And that just makes me smile. Eccleston, whose 69th birthday comes just after New Year's Day, said he hopes "just to be here" throughout , keeping up his health and his daily beach walks at low-tide.
Rik Glover, who has lived in Old Orchard Beach for around seven years, said he's donated his tree to the pile each season since moving in.
Glover, 63, said he and his wife always look forward to the bonfire as a chance to see the entire community come together. You drag your tree down here and participate," he said. He said events like the bonfire are a prime example of neighbors coming together without being sidelined by things like political debate. Asked what he hoped might bring, Glover responded without pause. Less division," he said. Sharri MacDonald, president of OOB, which organizes the bonfire, said it "is really supposed to be an event that brings people together.
