A friendship that reaches across generations is too rare a thing — and its lessons are too valuable to ignore.
No matter the evidence (or lack of it), fantastic creatures will always roam the Maine woods.
If Jeremiah was a bullfrog, he would be a good friend of Paul’s — never mind how loud he was at night.
It’s the season for finding reasons to remain indoors and stationary, but one bold Mainer will no longer be deterred. (Or will he?)
Real talk: Maine winters aren’t nearly as bad as we act like they are. So cheer up! (And don’t close up shop!)
Big blizzards have a way of getting bigger in the telling. Maybe it’s because they reassure us that we are not alone.
Assimilation shouldn’t mean leaving your language behind.
Call it a fashion faux pas, but this Mainer is standing by his utterly predictable L.L. Bean wardrobe.
Ask any rural Mainer: There’s more than one way to wash a skunked dog. None are pleasant, though.
Spring in Maine, as E.B. White observed, is a haphazard season, best described in anecdotes.
Sometimes the only way to explain the allure of nature is to talk dollars and cents.
A fly-tying obsession helps ease the long transition from winter into spring.