The Maine Thing

 

Good morning from Bethel Maine.  It is a beautiful northeastern September morning, cool and overcast.  This is a marked change from yesterday's warm, bright sun.  The humidity is low and the air is crisp and clear.  This morning I am relaxing on the front porch of the large Air B&B called the Bingham House.  It is an older, historic property.  I love the old-style rooms and fixtures.  This front porch is one of the many beautiful spaces.

I can hear some bird calls, the insistent cawing of a crow in the distance, and maybe the light chirp of some nearby titmouse.  The chill in the air is a little uncomfortable but it is also invigorating.  At home, I'd throw a blanket over my shoulders or my lap and be snug and warm.  Here, on this screened-in porch, there are no blankets readily available. It doesn't matter though because when I get chilled, there is a warm cup of coffee waiting for me just through the door.  I can smell it brewing now.

As I look around and take in my surroundings, I notice the details of this old wicker couch. It is comfortable.  The floral print cushions are well worn and in some places threadbare.  They are subtle reminders that many people have enjoyed this seat over the years.  To my right is a white wicker rocking chair and to my left is a matching wicker armchair  They sit empty at this hour of the morning, but despite the chill in the air, they beckon anyone to  "come and sit a spell, unburden yourself."  Their pale blue cushions have also seen many years of use.  What conversations may have taken place here? I imagine evening lovers snuggling together and sharing dreams of the future.  Or maybe two parents sat here on a warm summer evening, exhausted after a long day, sipping a cold beer and waiting for their daughter to return home from her date.  Maybe they discuss the positive attributes of the boys she seems attracted to, secretly holding out hope that this most recent beau is not "the one".  This space has probably witnessed sad news and great celebrations.  My grandmother used to tell me stories of her mother and father bringing the piano and fiddle out onto a porch like this on the farm in Wisconsin and all of the children and their significant others joining together on the front lawn for an evening of dancing.

I am interrupted from my reverie by my nephew and his girlfriend rushing out the door to help prepare for the wedding festivities planned for later in the day.  His father calls after him with an admonition about the light clothes he's wearing and the chill in the air.  My nephew's response is "I'm not going to change what I do today based on the mistakes of yesterday."  I'm not sure what the mistakes were or the unchanging course of action but the statement strikes me as profound.  And off they drive to the house where we will all meet later to celebrate the marriage of his brother to a wonderful young lady.  

It's time for that warm cup of coffee.  I can already hear a lively discussion in the kitchen.  We are staying here is my wife's brother and two of her sisters.  Some of my kids are here along with various nieces and nephews.  The conversation grows as people enter the kitchen the way a fire grows as you add a log.  It is already a warm, bright fire with love and family as its fuel.  It's time for me to get warm and join in the kitchen conversation.  As the screen door slams behind me, as all good porch doors do, I consider how fortunate it is to have this time together as family.  It is truly the Maine thing.