Maine Musings

I don’t always make decisions, but when I do, it’s poorly thought out and on a whim. I’m sitting at a dining room table across from a grey rainy day up in Maine. I’ve always loved writing while it rains. Unfortunately, it never seems to rain long enough in Virginia to set the mood; I find a halfhearted rainy day depressing, but here, the weather seems to commit, and it comes across as more content than sad because of it. 

I know I haven’t written in a while, and honestly, it’s because I haven’t felt up to it. A lot has happened since my last post. For one, I got laid off, and two, I am now up in Maine until the end of October. 

I took a seasonal position near Acadia National Park for their busy season. Soon the leaves will be turning, and tourists will be flocking. Our housing coordinator, who has worked here for the past few seasons, says he’s met several families who have been vacationing here for generations and never miss a late summer in Maine. I’ve only been here a few days, and I’m already starting to discover what brings people back year after year. 

Technically I’m staying near the town of Ellsworth, 15 miles from the park. I don’t mind the drive though; it gives me the perfect excuse to see more of Maine. After work, I drive the 15 miles toward Bar Harbor and the park, passing little weather-beaten white houses and stand-alone seafood shacks, all boasting the best lobster rolls in Maine. I open my van windows and allow the slightly chilled air of early fall to come in, bringing with it the smell of lobster and low tide. 

In between breaks in the scraggly coastal trees, I catch glimpses of inlets and all the boats bobbing in the still pink waters of the late evening as the sun sinks into the Atlantic, and quietly, I wonder to myself why I’ve never thought of Maine before.