By Jillian Bedell
I tell the girls, and remind myself, all the time that we are so lucky to live in a place that so many people want to visit. Imagine, they live somewhere landlocked, surrounded by highways, billboards, big box stores, and other 21st century soul pollution, and fantasize constantly about coming to Maine. They wait all year, they plan and save, to spend a few days or weeks where we get to be all the time. We live in a special place, I say. And even though it can be a struggle, in March, when the days are dull and ugly, looking around at our neighbors and wondering what might happen if the climate gets too warm too fast, if the lobster migrate north, if we lose fishing and therefore tourism as a means to make a living, I never forget why I chose this place.