People come to live in Maine for all kinds of reasons. Some people come because they are tired of the crowds and noise and dirt in their own hometown. When they get to Maine, they relax at first with the silence and open space and fresh air, but pretty soon all of that begins to bug them. Where are all the stores? Where are all the malls? Where are all the cinemas? There are some of those things in Maine, of course, but not like what most people are used to, and so they leave.
Some people come because they are tired of the hustle,
bustle, and crime of their own hometown.
They want a simpler life, and when they get here, at first they relax
into the simplicity of everyday routine and a quiet life. But soon enough, they get antsy. Where are the theatres? Where is Broadway? Where are all the ethnic cuisines? We have tiny pockets of these things here and
there, but not much, and so they leave.
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| Some people "get it." |
Some people come for clean air, clean water, and abundant
wildlife, which they don’t have in their hometown. When they get here, they are amazed and
delighted with the stark beauty and woods and waters teeming with animals. But after a while when their eyes have
adjusted to the beauty, they don’t see it anymore. Where is the entertainment? Why is there nothing to do here? Why are hunting and fishing still so popular
here? Shouldn’t we band together and
make legislation to outlaw them?
Eventually, they become downcast, and so they leave.
Some people come because they have bought into the media’s
fantasy of Maine. White picket fences everywhere. Neighbors full of love and hospitality. A surprising amount of sophistication. Opportunity
everywhere. Farming communities. And while we have all of those things, often
they must be created by each person in one way or another, and farmers are busy
people. Transplants soon learn that we
don’t sit on our porches sipping coffee all day, that work in agriculture can
be back-breaking, and that the locals are often suspicious of their motives,
and so eventually they leave.
And why are locals so suspicious of the motives of
transplants? Are the locals just
mean? Far from it. But it can be taxing when someone comes to
live in your area and tells you how you ought to change this or you ought to
change that. They tell you how you don’t
have enough culture or industry or good food.
They tell you that you don’t have enough education and that you ought to
be mighty impressed with their education.
They don’t like direct democracy, as many towns have instead of representative
democracy. So they start grumbling, and
when they grumble, they miss out on some real beauty, including the people of Maine.
But some people--some people--“get it.” Some people come because their hearts have
been searching for a very long time. Some
people come because their souls are bare and empty and they need to fill them
up again. Some people come and embrace
the quiet, the solitude, the wildlife, the emptiness, the occasional
loneliness, the bitter cold and the snow and the ice . . . And they love it all. They come because their journey is finally
over, because they know that life is all about simply living, just living each
day. Life is about breakfast, lunch, and
dinner. Life is about friends and
flowers. Life is about communion with
the soil and the other elements around you.
Life is about hard work. Life is
about self-sufficiency and independence.
Some people know a diamond in the rough when they see it.
