At home in Bangor, Maine

            How long does it take to become an insider? How long before you belong, before you are home? Maybe those are all different questions.
         We moved to central Maine seventeen years ago. Our house became home quickly. Our little town offered easy insider status through school-aged kids. The city of Bangor is our area hub – where we shop, where we work, where we go out - but it was never my town.
            Here is a recent snapshot of Bangor in the evening light, captured through the windshield of my car. When I looked at the photo, I was flooded with fondness. It is a collage of associations – the brick church tower where I play the chimes, the frog that “ribbets” on top of the Discovery Museum, the storefronts that used to be something else, and something else before that, the best parking spots, the startling apartment where Anna took French horn lessons from Mrs. Love. I know what is around each corner and how close we are to the river and where you can get an excellent Reuben sandwich. I think this must be what home feels like.
 
My 60th year in 60,000 words
Day 15: 187 words, TOTAL = 2525;  57,475 remaining