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| Prospect Harbor Lighthouse, Cadillac Mountain, Frenchman's Bay |
I grin as I stow my suitcase. It’s silly, I know. But I smile all over when I see the ice scraper in the rental car. It means I’m somewhere that is likely to be cold, and snowy, and cold, and in all probability quite scenic, oh, and cold and snowy! Obviously I don’t live in cold weather country. And it’s probably a short leap to figure out I’ve never lived where one had to dig out of snow drifts or shovel driveways on a regular basis. Nope, I haven’t. Having lived in Florida my entire life, I love cold, snowy weather, and I am looking forward to two days of play, in the cold, in Maine!
It’s been a good day. Needing just five more segments to achieve Delta Gold status this year, I booked a trip to Bangor. It’s a bit extravagant, I think. But when you fly a lot, little things take on great importance - like boarding early and getting overhead bin space, and choosing your own seats, and sometimes being upgraded to first class for free. I found a very cheap flight, and here I am. The day has been long: Gainesville to Atlanta, Atlanta to LaGuardia, LaGuardia to Bangor. But all flights have been on time. And I was upgraded to First Class for free from LaGuardia to Bangor. And Avis has upgraded me for free to a small SUV with all wheel drive. If I have to drive on snowy roads, hey, I’m all set!
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| Home in Hancock, Maine |
When I booked the flight I wasn’t sure what exactly I would do once I got here, other than visit a scenic spot and shoot a lot of photographs. But by the time I land, my course is clear, having been steered by my first class (literally and figuratively) LaGuardia to Bangor seatmate. I usually don’t talk much to seatmates when I fly, generally just work, read, or sleep. But I couldn’t not interact with Mick. I’m not sure how the conversation started, but soon we’re chatting like old friends. A university professor here in Maine, an engineer by training and trade, Mick sounds more like a sociologist than a hard scientist. His enthusiasm for the conversation - which is probably fueled, admittedly, by the wine he’s been drinking during his long day of flights - is infectious, and we rattle on.
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| Acadia at Schoodic Peninsula |
Mick grew up in Leadville, a small mining community in Colorado. I had never heard of Leadville until I took my first trip to Colorado two years ago. But I spent several nights each of the last two summers in a community just fifteen miles away, and we begin to share stories. We chat about Colorado, then we chat about Maine, and soon Mick engages his right brain and begins comparing Leadville to the parts of Maine I have considered visiting, the coastal area called Down East. While assuring me that there is great beauty along the coast Down East, Mick also talks about the people and their struggles. In this part of Maine it is lobster fishermen who work seasonally and don’t always have enough money to pay the bills year round, as well as blueberry harvesters, fishermen, and others. He tells me there are pockets of deep poverty Down East. Mick asks if I have read Steinbeck and Terkel. He says Eastport, Maine is literally Cannery Row. He says that many of the people Down East are those who were written about by Terkel. He talks of the Passamaquoddy Reservation adjacent to Eastport, references the sometimes conflicting politics of tribal, city, and county governments. And he talks of wealthy folks who live and work in New York and other cities but retire to their island homes Down East for relaxation.
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| Acadia at Schoodic Peninsula |
By the time the flight ends, I am decided. I will explore Down East! I have enjoyed my conversation with Mick, who now seems like an old friend, and we exchange contact information. Then I head off to baggage claim. As I drive out of the airport I shout with glee. Though it is not yet 5:00 pm, it is already dark outside. Hanging in the distance, just over the horizon, is a large full moon. A very large full moon. I have reservations at a motel in Ellsworth, about thirty miles from Bangor. As I travel toward Ellsworth, the moon remains in my vision, rising slowly, impressive in its reserve, quietly ascending the cold, clear night sky. I have been graced by the beauty of Maine moons many times. This portends good things.
Donna Lawson
© December, 2011
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