Field Notes, Thursday August 18th

I had this preconceived notion of just what Maine is supposed to be like, you know, not all that different that the preconceived notions that many of us have about other places (for example that the Jersey Shore is full of air-headed greasers and orange bimbos with multiple tattoos).  It's heartening to know that, on balance, those notions were correct.

The above noted, I give you the Bass Harbor light house...

Yes, rocky coast, waves crashing, buoys buoying, sailboats plying the coast...it's all here, in living color.  This place is as exactly as advertised.

There is a certain uniqueness in this day and age to a place like this.  I know, it sounds as if I am writing advertising copy, but too bad, 'tis how I feel. I am sure that, somehow, the Maine tourism folks would be happy at this spew.  I think that in this day and age we get accustomed to the sensational.  We expect the be dazzled at the moment so that then we an move on.  This is the same culture that decided that instant communication via email wasn't enough...no, we also need it is about 60 characters or less via Twitter.  In all of this crazy pace, you know what?  The sailboats seem to move up and down the waterways here at what must be the same speed they have always moved.  Couple that with the fact that I sit here typing via a wireless Internet connection and we get an interesting dichotomy.  Despite the speed of my connection and the wonderful tech I have in front of me, this place still seems to move slowly.

Ah, moving slowly.  I sometimes forget just what "slow" means.  Here and now I appreciate just how fast my life moves.  Whether it is the mile and a minute pace of work (where I seldom actually get a sit-down lunch) or evenings filled with trying to get stuff crammed in, now I think I truly appreciate just how fast my life has become.  This is part of the uniqueness of this place:  it forces you to measure time the old-fashioned way.  Tides don't operate in Twitter time and the fog takes most of the morning to clear out.

As the week winds down I'm beginning to think about some what I will be taking back to my "real" life.  I know that there will be some tangible things, such as maybe 300 pictures and a tee-shirt or two, but I am mostly interested in the tangible things that sit in the back of your head, things that persist long after the tee-shirts are fashioned into rags and the photos misplaced.  These are the things that really matter.  I suspect I will have a few of these really important things to take back with me Scranton.

One things I know to be true:  I needed to be in this place at this time.