Many years ago I was at a gas station in Maryland. I looked over at the beat-up pickup truck next to me and frowned. Hmm. Maine plates.
“Hey,” I said, catching the driver’s eye. “Why do you have a snow shovel tied to the front of your truck?”
He hunched over, slightly deflated.
“Dang,” he said. “I hoped this was the spot, but nope…”
“What are you talking about?”
“Well, see here, after winter was over, I tied my snow shovel to the front of the truck and started south. My idea is that the first time someone points to it and says, “what do you have there?” I will stop and put down roots, for I know I’d a done found my new home.”
These days I hear it is the other way around.
I’ve heard people from the northern points of Maine saying there are strangers in town…
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