First of all, there is Maine. Without Maine the Moosepath League would cease to exist, the fact of which has made me love my second home state much more than I did at first. Coming from New Mexico, Maine seemed less romantic, less colorful, less mysterious. I felt crushed by trees and found the sea frightening after living for so long in a land of little water. I was used to bright reds and golds and huge expanses of sky, and yet here I was, transplanted to a land that seemed at first very drab. Green. Gray. White. Silver blue.
After living here for almost ten years though, I am finally beginning to see that Maine has every bit of romance and mystery as the land of my birth. In fact, it is somehow a richer and stranger place, being so much older in a way. It has stories and towns that existed long before white men began trickling into the West, and those same trees and that same sea hold so much more than I could ever have imagined. I have to look harder perhaps, for the Maine of my experience is a reserved place, a careful place, but a place not lacking in wonders.
The Moosepath League makes it their business to search these wonders out, or you might say that they are discovered by them in a somewhat haphazard fashion. In this sense, Maine is like a character itself - mischievous and a little coy at times, and at other times exuberant and excited, flinging it's arms open wide and asking only that you admire and love it.
As a child who was mortally afraid of ticks and bored with lighthouses, I needed someone like Mister Walton or Sundry Moss or the people they met to give me a better introduction to the state of Maine.
Now I see it as a treasure chest laid out before me. I want to find out it's secrets and read the old tales and spooky stories that come out of the sea. I remember when I was studying Leif Erikson. I was so excited to think that perhaps he had come here - and then to read in Daniel Plainway, I think it was, of something that had to do with that. It was like finding part of the answer to a riddle. And the mysterious 'Red Paint' people, who left those huge oyster shell heaps on the Damariscotta - I want to see them!
Maine is a rich place, a vibrant place, and it was the Moosepath League who showed me that. I thank them from the bottom of my heart.