A Coastal Journey With My New HandyCam...
I finally figured out how to get the photo's off my HandyCam and onto my computer. (Actually, my husband found out how to get the photos off my HandyCam and onto my computer *blush*) A grand majority of the pictures I took were while we were in motion (driving) and so they turned out a little blurry. Almost all of them were also taken while I was video recording. So all-in-all I don't consider them half bad, but I also don't consider them something I'd hang on my wall at the end of the day. I'm way too used to my 7.1 megapixel Kodak. However, after using my brother's 12 Megapixel high-def Kodak during our family Florida vacation, I gotta admit, I was left feeling a little restless; but I digress.
I don't know about you all, but when it snows I get kinda... itchy to get out in it and take pictures. All winter long I listen to people complain about the snow and how cold it is, and all winter long I retort "We live in Maine. In the winter time in Maine it gets cold. If it's going to be cold anyway, we might as well have it be "cold and white" than cold and crusty brown." For Pete's sake, people, it's about
damned time Maine looks, in real life, the way it does in the mind's of people "from away" who think we live like Eskimos 8 months out of the year! Y'get what I'm sayin'? It hasn't snowed like this in years, and personally, I welcome it.So anyway, when it snows my husband and I make up reasons to go for a ride. I bring my camera and my camcorder and we hit the back roads and the scenic areas between here and there. I take pictures while he drives slow... He makes it a point to back up, or turn around in case I missed something. (He's so good to me *grin*) Then I download the pictures and enjoy them on my computer. I spend time editing them, and maybe posting a few on my different blog sites. I haven't taken a photo worth putting on a postcard or anything, but it's just a fun little pastime we share. I think he enjoys putting his truck into 4-wheel-drive and taking to the road as much as I enjoy being out there in the thick of it all.
This trip here, these photos, are from this past weekend when we hit the road after a night time storm that swept through the area. Generally speaking, when it snows in other areas of the state, it might rain more than snow where we live. Most folks don't consider our town to be "coastal", but it kind of is. It's not exactly on the ocean, but we have a very large salt water bay that isn't all that far from "the real deal". So when it snows, or we have "weather", in our area we get a mix of what the true coastal towns get for precipitation, mixed with that the true inland towns get for precipitation. It can get pretty interesting around here when it snows, or when thunderclouds are on the horizon. Which reminds me, about 2 weeks ago we had the weirdest mid-winter thunderstorm... When the thunder clapped for the first time, it surely sounded like it broke immediately over our house! The !bang! woke us up out of a dead-sleep. It was so loud it shook our house and rattled the windows! It was... unbelievably weird.
Hopefully I'll get to upload some shots of the modest homes we encountered on our way to and from the islands. It gives a great representation of the population of people that actually inhabit our smaller, less glitz and glamor, coastal communities. This is one of those few local areas not built up by the rich and wealthy people from other states (and sometimes, other countries). Folks from New York and Massachusetts... they come to our tiny, often times poorer, coastal communities where they can get great deals on parcels of land, or even smaller seaside houses. They scoop 'em up for a great "deal", by their big-city standards, and then they build these fabulous seaside mansions. Sounds great, right? Not so much. They wind up increasing the taxes for all the other local "year round" residents and driving out the native Mainers because we year rounders can't afford to keep up with the city slicker salaries.
Y'know, Mainers have found themselves in a crisis as of the past few years (good few years). The crisis is that Maine is the 2nd highest taxed state in the Nation, and one of the lowest wage earning states in the nation. While I
wouldn't say we're "poor", I will absolutely say that your average Mainer does 'struggle' to get by. We have awful winters, bitter and cold, and now with snow which needs to be plowed, shoveled, snow-blowed, or otherwise removed (translate that one of 2 ways, $$$ or "elderly shut-in's for months on end, and that is a reality many people do not think about). We have hot and very humid summers that seem to be getting warmer as each summer goes by. Gas is expensive, heating oil, wood, and K-1 have hit highs we've never seen before, and which the elderly never considered they'd have to budget for...And from my perspective, I think there are plenty of City-Slicker big $$$ folks "from away" (Not from Maine) that consider these as circumstances for exploitation. Buy out the poor folk who are willing to sell, and by doing so, carry on with this Darwinian philosophy of "the fittest will survive". The locals who are left living in the area will be thinned out due to rising property taxes and an influx of the "rich".
What Mainers who "sell" don't realize is that the people we're selling to are the people who are living in unhappy places and unhappy conditions. They want what we have because they can't get that where they're from. They can't have the big money and the spacey luxury home on the beautiful rocky coast of Maine. So they bring their big-city money here, but they also bring their big-city mentality here, too. They bring their crime, their "dog eat dog" philosophy of business ethics and wasteful living standards... Mainers don't live like people in the big cities do. "Uh-duh", here, at "home" where I live... "less is more". Yeah, people want more, but you don't see the big houses so much. You see the older, smaller, houses that are improved upon with time. You see people driving the same car they were driving 8 years ago. Thrift shops around every corner, volunteers working at the recycle centers, and 2nd hand clothes aren't scoffed at as an insult... it's a way of life. It's how we do things. We're more about the necessities than we are about fashion or comfort. Heck, if we can have necessity and comfort together at the same time!? Lol! Then we're doing great! You get someone, in my town, who walks by you and is wearing a "fashion", lol, it's just downright funny.
Maine is what it is because of the way we view life, and lifestyle. It's like the history of why the Maine lobster is
such a "delicacy". Mainers laugh at why it is that people "from away" consider it to be this tasty expensive little meal when in fact the roots of the "Maine Lobster Dinner" go back to, essentially, what every other Maine tradition started out as.... "Necessity". The bare bones minimum. Whatever could be done to "get by" was done, and the Maine Lobster dinner is a true testament to that life philosophy. Lobster was "the poor man's meal" here in Maine. Lobsters were so plentiful on the coast of Maine that they actually washed up on the shores and po'folk would scour the rocky coast and pick them up as a... "free meal". Sailors and their families would eat them fairly regularly, and the meal was shared with visiting friends and family members. Soon enough, word got out about the adventures to be had on the coast of Maine, with fishing and sea breezes, and the eating of this delicacy people could pluck from the rocky coast and eat with their fingers... a true native Maine experience, for sale, for all who wanted to live like a Mainer.... Not so special anymore though, huh? Seems like everything's for sale these days. Our land, our homes, our traditions, and we if we don't watch it... our entire lifestyle... "for sale".These homes on the coast of these tiny islands are a testament of how true coastal Mainers live. They don't fake it. They can't. Their houses are small, not because it's stylish, but because they can't afford to make them bigger. Their homes have drafty old windows, not because it helps keep the house looking quaint and picturesque, but because it costs too damned much to get new ones. Their cars are rusted, not solely because they're so old, but because they live near the sea, and the "work" is "in town"... and they travel, early morning and late night... through snow, sleet, rain, and the beating sun, they're at work in the winter before the sun rises and they're on their way home long after the sun has set. This isn't an island of people who live the glamorous lifestyle of a Californian, Floridian, or heck, even a Mass-hole... nope... Mainer, to the end. Born and bred coastal Mainer who knows what it means to sleep in a cold house with a bunch of blankets and a drafty front door just outside the mud-room. Who heats with a wood stove and makes sure they get up at least once a night to stoke the fire so it won't go out before morning. They surely don't want to wake up to a cold house without a spark in the wood stove to get a quick fire going, that's for sure!
And, as in all localities... one man's picturesque view could be another man's bane. What a clear view of the ocean might mean to a summer vacationer probably translates into something completely different for a year-round-resident. But, as in everything else, Mainers take things in stride. There are good winters, and there are
not-so-good winters. There are rough times, and there are rougher times. But I do have to say, there aren't all too many times where I, personally, have heard anyone saying they'd want to leave this place. Things have to change, they'll say, but they're in it for the long haul. Sure, there are folks who retire and leave this place for warmer weather, but I've heard from some of them, too. They've said there's nothing like the smell of Maine on the rocky coast on a warm summer afternoon... nothing else like it. And truth-be-told.... I've heard it too many times in the summer, when they all "come home" for a few months, only to leave again in the fall to escape the harsh winters we all endure until Spring breaks, and we welcome back the migration of "natives from away". Local year-rounders might not agree with why those folks leave every Autumn, but I'm pretty sure you won't find anyone who says they don't understand why it happens.
Comments