Today I fell in love. For a couple of days now, I suspected I might be, but today, I am sure. How do I know, you ask? I know because I smile, laugh even, as I pass white clapboard post offices and salty, cantankerous looking marsh grass. My heart swells as I hop over mud puddles because so many things are left unpaved. I feel fear as I drive by “Redemption Centers,” wondering if I can redeem myself from all the sins I have committed and how this center could possibly help me, until I realize it is really just an aluminum and plastics recycling center, not caring at all for my soul. Joyful taste buds tingle from the taste of real mulled apple cider that is available at all restaurants and cafes. Hungry eyes feast on the weathered shingles, clinging more tightly to the structures they cover in attempt to stay attached, spiting the determined, blustering wind. Houses wrapped in blue and orange plastics, bushes covered by sandwich boards and chicken wire, all to keep powerful winter from crushing and flooding. My car resembles a Jackson Pollock painting, splashes of browns, reds and yellows decorate the electric blue canvas. First thing in the morning, fog blocks the sun from warming and lighting me as I awaken, protecting me for a little while from the hustle and bustle of reality. A quiet reserve, a friendly manner and a hardy spirit describes the kind souls I encounter daily. Happy feet celebrate their spacious, contoured home because Dansko clogs are dressy and professional up here. Open space is in abundance both on land and in water. Soft, gray ripples beckon, desiring the company of quiet, gliding kayaks and the souls who bring them to life. People move slowly, taking time to observe and absorb the moody, natural beauty that surrounds them. Cresting a hill, I can see for miles—mountains, valleys, rivers, harbors, oceans, forests all for my eyes to digest. Truly, I am in love. With whom you ask? With central, coastal Maine, I answer.