Being in Maine has been a strangely magical experience. For instance, often times when I eat lunch looking out toward the mountain range, there is no one for miles. In Massachusetts, that wouldn’t be possible, and if by rare occasion it was, it would feel lonely...or even threatening. Like someone might be lurking. Waiting. You are not alone in many places in Mass. (there are exceptions, but those places are extremely expensive to live in or remote).
Here, the open space is empty but warm. Maybe that is just because everyone I’ve met so far has been so kind. I work and live at a school, so it would be easy to think that I just have this feeling as I live in what can be seen as a home on a hill. However, that just isn’t the case.
Some interactions I’ve had since moving have been simple, but sweet, and they have not been on campus.
For example, I met our local librarian when I went with my husband to get our new library cards. We ended up speaking for about a half-hour. She was so open and friendly. That has not been my upfront experience in most libraries (again, there are exceptions, but we are speaking about the rule here).
A simpler one came in the form of a required visit to the Bureau of Motor Vehicles. In Massachusetts and New Hampshire, that was always a chore. A worker there would exert the tiny amount of power they had over the masses (and there were indeed masses) and the affair would take all day. Sometimes, things were left unresolved. Smiles did not exist.
In Maine, and I know that COVID-19 has played a role, but still, I was in a line consisting of just me and my husband. We were served immediately. They joked with us. They offered us suggestions to help us save money and what mechanic we should try in the local area. Their recommendations were uniquely tailored to us.
Finally, one evening before the arrival of my husband (he came to Maine later in order to give notice at his job), I went to the local country store to purchase an adult beverage. When I arrived, I asked offhandedly if there were any chilled bottles. His response could have been a simple “No,” but instead he furrowed his brow slightly and said, “You know, I don’t, but you aren’t the first to ask, so maybe I should start!”
That got me thinking. He was considering others...in a long-term sense...that he likely didn’t know well. I knew at that moment that I liked him, even though I knew next to nothing about him.
I’m not downing the other states I’ve lived in. I love Massachusetts and I definitely have many fond memories from my home state of New Hampshire (though I know sometimes in the past I’ve said otherwise due to a distinctly grass-is-greener thought process typical of my past youth), but I think I’ve found a match in Maine, and in particular, mid-Maine.
This has been a hard move during the pandemic and to another state, but it has also been one of the best of my life. I think I can really put down roots here...and I can’t wait to grow.