Crossing the Piscataqua River, the State of Maine’s welcome sign reads: ‘The Way Life Should Be’. We’ve chosen to resettle here, and after driving 1600 indirect miles to leave the lower 47 behind, with the river far below, the dense forest of maple, beech, pine, hickory, and birch flanked us like sentries heralding the end of the drive, and the beginning of our journey.

We’ve been in Maine for one month now and the boxes are unpacked, the artwork hung, the pantry re-stocked, and a daily routine emerges. We’re living in Portland: a population of 64,000 makes this the largest city in the state; its 17-story building the tallest in the state; its deep water port, free of ice year-round, is the largest in the Northeast and the primary anchorage for Eastern Canada. Maine is about natural resources not urban living, and this serves our purpose well. We settled in Portland for the interim until we find land to homestead, to nurture, to reconnect.

I work at Thos Moser Cabinetmakers, building chairs on the first shift. My day begins at 4:30 am heading north, across the backwaters of the Casco Bay, as the rosy-fingered dawn erupts. Dense fog is an almost daily occurrence, and with very little traffic my workday arrives wrapped with solitude. My car radio is tuned to the local NPR station, and its BBC broadcasts bring daily reports of violence escalating around the globe. The news, shattering my solitude, underscores the point that this move need be more about mind space than geographic place. Mainstream consciousness, man’s world, is root bound with strife and stress. I can easily turn off the radio, but can I as well shift my perceptual focus towards things less contentious, more pure?

Thos Moser’s shop seems to be a good place to ponder this. Thomas began as a sole craftsman in a basement workshop and now, more than 30 years later, employs 90 craftsmen and women, and operates six showrooms. The output is prolific and each week a 53-foot trailer leaves the workshop, filled with heirloom quality furniture built of solid cherry, ash, and occasionally, walnut. Notwithstanding its large scale, the company remains a mellow, pleasant and thoroughly decent workplace. A recent anecdote captures its spirit. George, a teacher from New Jersey, worked in the shop this week, again, as he has, since 1987, spending one vacation week per year building chairs in Thos Moser’s shop. On Friday, at noon, a voice over the intercom proclaimed "everyone please gather at the break room." The head of operations made a joke about "32 more weeks to go until George gets a review" and then George quickly expressed his gratitude for 20 weeks, nay 20 years, spent in the shop and proceeded to hand out ice cream to everyone. The entire shop stopped to eat chocolate, vanilla or rum ice cream.

Since our arrival, the twice-weekly Portland farmers market has been a staple of our routine. In mid-June the market offered flowering plants, annuals and perennials, or lettuces, herbs, and mixed greens. Gradually carrots, radishes, Swiss chard, bok choy, and countless varieties of sweet pea emerged and now, after four weeks, the baskets and crates overflow with red or gold new potatoes, summer corn, summer squash, string beans, broccoli and kohlrabi. The summer is ripe, and sinfully sweet strawberries have given way to raspberries and blueberries.

Attending the market was a top priority upon our arrival, and we’ve come to know some of the farmers. Chris, a former architect, fled the corporate world about three years ago to pursue organic farming. We can learn from this intensely cerebral young man, who proudly displays his status as a registered organic grower. Chris tills about five acres near Bowdoinham (bowdoinham.com), a town along the Cathance River, where it flows into the Merrymeeting Bay. Settled as early as 1662, Bowdoinham is home now to about a thousand people, mostly farmers, and Lola, the town cat. The Merrymeeting is a freshwater estuary and the soil there ranks among the most fertile in the state; eastern Sagadahoc County is referred to as Maine’s Fertile Crescent. He mentions the Natural Resources Conservation Service (NRCS) with the suggestion that we research soil types across the state before buying land. The point makes sense: for farming, better to purchase land from the soil up, rather than the view down. With each week our roots go deeper.

Chris was the first farmer we met, on our first visit to market. We talked about books: Michael Pollen’s ‘Omnivores Dilemma’ and Elliot Coleman’s ‘Four Season Harvest’. On the matter of the strict adherence to organic growing, even when it may consume more fossil fuels or allow the use of harsh pesticides, Chris acknowledged that a local regimen would be his preference, but the organic registry is too strong a marketing tool. The mention of Elliot Coleman (fourseasonfarm.com) lead to discussion of Helen and Scott Nearing, whose book, published in 1954 is titled ‘Living The Good Life: how to live sanely and simply in a troubled world.’

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