Maine the Way Life Should Be

Tonight, the sunset painted a beautiful pink, white and blue sky, and I told to myself that I was very lucky to be spending another summer in Maine.
My family discovered Maine while we lived near Boston; it instantly became home. 
Snuggled at the feet of a pond fed by the Kennebec River, the cabin we purchased begged for people to take care of it. We cleaned and stripped. We scrubbed and painted. We nailed and sawed. We worked like dogs, and by the way we aren’t finished yet. They say the journey is what matters, right?
But as we worked, we also discovered the fragile sun of Maine and the rocky shore of the Northern Atlantic Ocean. The pine state became the place of memories, the place to return without homework and answering machine, the today place to be happy. 
Maine established my children’s roots in their parents’ adoptive country, and personified my first encounter with the American real estate dream.
‘Maine the way life should be’ is more than a tourist slogan. Mainers eat ice cream along the summer roads like there is no tomorrow. Since they don’t take the sun for granted, like we do in California, they overdose on the beach before winter closes on them.
And of course, when the French have the geese liver, the Mainers have the best the ocean can offer. If I had to choose between foie gras and lobsters, although I love France and foie gras, I already know that I would be a traitor to my native country. A lobster roll in Maine makes you believe in nothing, but the beauty of life.
The song says, “I left my heart in San Francisco.”
Moving away from Paris for the US broke my heart, but it’s in Maine that at the end of summer I leave it. 

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