Here and there

Morning, Maine, Midcoast

Where I am, wanted, wandered, and arrived. On planting roots...

Strange, when the strings of plans made weave together and finally form the tapestry of change anticipated. And then the exploration, the wondering, the musing about the change that has and is unfolding. The gardens of our life...

Three years ago the idea of buying a house in Maine was percolating. Almost 30 years settled in the Piedmont of Virginia - a place that everyone who knows, sighs and says, "Oh, it's beautiful there!" Beautiful springs, mild winters, abounding cultural and natural amenities. A community I had come to know, friends, coworkers, work that I loved. A community blessed and chided by a great and lofty university. Academic and intellectual conversations galore. But also pretentious, segregated, sometimes more pompous perhaps, than in fact, progressive. Yet supportive of great arts, talent, and in it's own sidestepping way, diversity and change. Charlottesville, Hookville, C'ville. I love it there, and especially the great friends I made and keep. And will always have a root there.

Midcoast Maine. Rockland in particular. Leaving Wisconsin about 35 years ago, I said, "I will never live in the north, or in a small town again." Hah! Never say never. Rockland - raw, simple, direct. Again, an area of great beauty. Rolling hills to the ocean. A shoreline peppered with quaint and unique towns and villages, offshore islands, sailboats, lobster boats, windjammers, and kayaks. More art than seems possible for such a remote corner. Lots of retired and retiring folks - some ageing well (boating, building, creating, biking, painting, gardening, walking.....) others not. Life is not easy here, or for the wimpy. Winters are long, summers divine and intense. And so, here I am, trying to make my way, make sense of my move, and the unfolding third act of my life.

It makes a lot of sense to seasonally drift between the two locations and homes - if one can somehow manage two houses 900 miles apart. Not exactly what they recommend in the real estate investment manuals. Tho that is the plan...for now. I can't imagine missing out on the unparalelled beauty of springtime in Virginia. When snow turns slowly to mud in Maine, and the dogwoods and Azaleas are blooming down south. But my ageing bones started to reject the long hot and humid summers there. Already my energy is adjusting. It is June, the days are very long, and it is still springtime here. My tulips were blooming when I arrived mid May, and lasted a month! My kitchen garden is now planted in the raised beds off my deck, and the thought of picking fresh salads and veggies just off my deck through the summer - when the cicadae chorus is blaring and leading the insect orchestra in Virginia. Oh, they do of course have bugs here. The infamous black flies are reportedly subsiding, tho I haven't seen a one. I live a couple blocks from the ocean, and they don't lite here. There are of course mosquitoes. May even be the state bird for the size of them. But oh the lilacs!! Most of them bloom for Memorial Day weekend, and are now fading. But there is a Korean dwarf variety that blooms a couple weeks later, and they're now permeating the air - around the two planted at my stoop steps, and in the 40 yard long row of them edging the harbor on my morning walk. Simply intoxicating. The lupines are also peaking now. The fields are laced with them as you drive up and down the coast or into the hills. I am having a hard time staying away from the plethora of amazing garden centers that also abound. The season is so intense (and ultimately short, I suppose) that you can almost hear things growing. I love that you can grow rhododendrons, azaleas, weeping cherries.......favorites from Virginia springtimes.....but also delphiniums, beach roses, lilacs, and of course lupines.

And so the seasons, like the locales, are pretty nicely spaced for drifting between. If my work were as portable as I wish, I'd be quite content to shift north and south from Maine to Virginia - maybe with Februarys spent somewhere father south -like Costa Rica, Thailand, or Ecuador. But before I start shifting my horizons (I just got here!!) I know that I am very lucky to just be here.......and there.

My hands are dirty, my muscles aching and more toned from the digging, building raised beds and fences, my dreams stretched, and my heart is happy.

Planting new gardens.