LIFE IN MAINE

Life in the slow lane. The way life should be. Maine. You see it all over the place. Those tourism slogans make it onto Tshirts, coffee mugs and road signs. Life in Maine can be wonderful. I will not argue that.




Many people dream of living here. There are websites dedicated to moving here and a whole campaign by the state to encourage growth.

I was born here in Maine and for many years, I didn’t know anything about living elsewhere. When I was a child, we visited other states; had cousins in Connecticut, visited my sister and Army bound brother in law at Fort Campbell KY, and did numerous road trips to Boston, into New Hampshire’s White Mountains, and to Canada. It’s not like I didn’t get out of Maine. On the trips, my father would point out billboards, and always tell us “that’s something you don’t see back home.” Maine does not allow billboard advertising. Clutters up the view. He would encourage us to eat things that were not on the menu in Maine, like grits in Virginia.



When I was twenty one, I got married and moved to New Britain Connecticut. I likened the experience, at the time, to culture shock. The buzz of the streets. The noise at night. The crime on the news. There were things I had to adjust to like traffic. I enjoyed the choices I had there. The malls were nearby. There were so many restaurants and bars. Where I come from is in southern Maine, where the state’s population is mostly congregated, but still, Maine’s population dances around one million people, spread over the entire state. Maine itself is as big as the other five New England states put together. The greater Hartford area supports a million people. It took some getting used to.

In the first year living there, ATM machines were becoming more prevalent. The office I worked in had a fax machine, a novel new concept then. I felt smug and superior to the folks back home, thinking that technology couldn’t possibly be moving in THAT direction. When I visited Maine, it was to see my family and the changes that were taking place here went unnoticed. I lived in Connecticut for twelve years. During that time, I did what move young married people do: rented apartments, got pets, held a job in the city, bought cars, bought a house, had a baby . . . . whoa . . . that did it. The baby. I wanted to move home to raise my kid. When my daughter was born, I wanted to be near my family and that meant moving to Maine.



One of the first things I noticed, after having relocated to Kennebunk, was a gesture used between drivers that was nearly unknown in Connecticut: the wave, as in waving you into traffic so you don’t have to wait, and the wave, as in “thanks” for letting you through. People are NICE in Maine. People share a common courtesy amongst each other. It’s not so much a conscious thing. You don’t really start the day saying “how am I going to be nice to another human being today?” It’s not like that. It just is how we are. Treat people with respect. Let someone who is standing in line with a baby and an armload of groceries go ahead of you. Open the door for someone. Perhaps the “pay it forward” concept is in play here.

On my recent visit to southern Maine, we were driving – leisurely – around the beaches of Kennebunk and Kennebunkport. Just checking things out. Nice day. At a point just past the Bush compound in Kennebunkport, we found ourselves behind a few cars, being held up by some bicyclists. The roads were curvy and it’s difficult to see around the next bend, so passing them must be done with care. We were not in a hurry that day, but apparently the convertible from Massachusetts in front of us didn’t feel the same way. He accelerated and braked, his partner waving her hands and shouting, gesturing with exasperating. Clearly they couldn’t wait to get around the corner. We laughed at them, at their impatience on such a fine day. What’s the hurry?

And there is crime here, don’t get me wrong. But things that don’t even make the news in Hartford are front page here. Murders and robberies happen. People do hurt each other. We’re not immune from the bad things, but it seems that somehow, the daily little good things keep the balance.



So if you have a desire to move here don’t plan to bring along your grudges and impatience. Keep your anger and “me first” attitude packed, or better yet, don’t bring it with you. Prepare to have your own “culture shock” if you come here to live. Plan on checking in on your neighbor and having a chat in the super market, because though we all have emails to check and places to get to, it makes the day better for everyone if you do get into that slow lane for a bit.

If you're craving a bit of Maine, visit my photography website and check out my selection of Maine cards and prints. http://www.celestecota.com/




Feel free to email me to order any of the images you see on this blog on on the website. celeste@celestecota.com