Maine Roots

I remember the way the cold air bit my plump childish cheeks in the early mornings, my sister and I would rap ourselves in fleece and quilts, saturated in the salty air.

I remember the way the seagulls sound at 4AM, calling my Grampa back to his lobster boat – as they have called to my family generation after generation.

I remember the way the sea spray stung against my face as we tried to make it to and from the mainland in our crappy little skiff. There was this sense of fear I would feel on the rough or foggy days, how I wondered when the sea would finally beat her (our skiff) in for good.

But what once was fear turned to respect, a strong yearning inside of me which I could not shake. As life continued, it became ever more so unstable and inconsistent, making the ocean my primary source of stability and joy.

Although my roots are on the coast of Maine I find myself excited by the idea of exploration of the earth. Maine although served it’s purpose as a home, is more than that to me. It is heritage, simplicity and finding beauty in the little things.

I look back with a sense of nostalgia upon my childhood in Maine, turning to the landscapes as a source of familiarity and calmness. Allowing myself to set aside my own affairs and able to dwell on the simple beauty which resides within the land, rocks and ocean.