March 8, 2013

Finding Solitude in Maine

While all the hip college kids are spending their Spring Breaks partying it up in Cancun and the DR, we adults have traveled to a land even colder than where we came from: Maine. The hubs and I are here to visit his grandmother, and while I do love a good sprawl on the beach with an adult beverage by my side, I also love the winter. In Maine there is actual snow! My snow-loving side has been deprived all season in DC, and it is finally getting the satisfying crunch of snow piles beneath my boots. I think I'm in love. It's serious. 

We are staying in a small town called Skowhegan, about an hour from Bangor. There is not much to do, but there are lots of lovely sprawling fields covered in snow, so I have loved just absorbing our surroundings. On the drive here, in between the snow-covered fields and quirky shops, we happened to pass a tiny cemetery, and I pleaded with the hubs to turn around so we could visit it. Is that totally creepy, or do others also get a little thrill when they see those crumbling headstones from over a century ago? I think it's the sense of history and the solemn quiet of cemeteries that I love so much, or maybe the sadness of the weather-beaten headstones whose messages are so faint that they seem no more than a whisper. Either way, I think they can be exceptionally beautiful places. 

I would have loved to spend more time there, but with family members to pick up at the airport, I was only able to indulge for a few quick moments. As I crunched through the snow reading the names on the headstones, I was so moved by how old the cemetery was. Some of the dates I could make out were from the 1870s. Imagining those people's lives at such a different time was bittersweet, and I would have easily lost myself in nostalgia for times I never knew had I been able to walk amongst the stones for longer. As it was, it was an oddly nice way to steal a few moments of solitude on a cold winter afternoon in Maine.