What does the dreaded, scorned phrase "Great Post, Thanks for Sharing" have to do with this post??? Well, umm... (shrug, shuffle)... not so much. Here's my loose two part correlation:
•(I) First, my theory is that attaching this controversial phrase will more than double readership of "Through My Eyes, Part II" over "Through My Eyes, Part I". Let's see if I'm right. Don't worry - you won't skew the numbers if you go back and read Part I. I will provide adjusted results!
•(II) ALL comments are welcome. I'm new and not yet comment proud. In a hurry? Just drop 5 little letters: GPTFS.
Now if my theory works on this post, my next step will be to find the five magic letters for real estate and attach it to all my advertising. : )
But back to our story. How do we connect to this place?
I'm from away. Not too far, about 45 miles south. But it crosses that great divide, the Massachusetts border. This is not such a bad thing in real estate. Most of the buyers come from there. Arthur is from 250 miles north, a much greater distance. But it is Maine. He is not from away and belongs here in a way that I cannot.
Southern seacoast Maine is a beautiful place. A mere 60 miles from Boston, we are blessed with a good economy. And even in a slower market, everyone wants to live here. Spring through fall, our ranks swell with the seasonal property owners and tourists, who flock to our sandy beaches. I enjoy the ebb and flow of the tides, the seasons, and the visitors.
Seasonal traffic does not ebb and flow. It is an abrupt downshift. Our little beach town's even littler main street becomes one way, in a circular pattern. To go to Wells, a mere 10 mile jaunt up the road, through Ogunquit, invokes that famous Maine phrase: "You cahn't get theah from heah." Well, actually you can.
You can go the back roads, up Mount Agamenticus, perhaps twice the distance. Only the locals know this way. Not even your Nav system knows it! Or you can relax and take more than twice the normal time to accommodate the intersection at the center of Route One Ogunquit.
Better yet, take your time and the scenic route. It's summer! Pick up Shore Road in the Cape Neddick section of York. Stop at Shore Road market for a lobster roll. Continue on past golf courses on the left and the rocky coast on the right. A split screen visual of soft rolling greens versus hard crashing surf.
Stop at the Ogunquit Museum of American Art http://www.ogunquitmuseum.org
and then continue to the truly scenic Perkins Cove. You will find wonderful shops, galleries and restaurants but don't miss the Beth Ellis gallery. http://www.bellisart.com Beth paints in the plein air style. Tell her that her cousin sent you.
Helicopters fly a coastal route and without reading anything in the paper, we always know when President Bush is visiting Kennebunkport, as he is now. It is the sound. Perhaps once a summer, we hear a cadre of aircraft over the sound of waves, birds and bell buoy. Helicopters another shortcut through Ogunquit ...
Now we come to our local great divide: east of Route One (considered "in town") or west of I 95, which closely parallels Route One through much of York.
Bookmarked by the York river to the south and Cape Neddick River to the north, west of 95 has some antique houses perched on the main roads like Cider Hill and Beech Ridge, built close to the road to reflect their true colonial heritage. There are some subdivisions of newer homes, many near the rivers and a few spectacular homes befitting landed gentry. There are also farms of gorgeous rolling fields and woodlots, many handed down for generations.
In some cases, west of 95 is a wondrous place of big land and little houses. As you cross Route One, the lots become smaller. As you approach the beach, still smaller until at last you arrive at the place of little land and big houses. Those who bask on the miles of beach don't mind this.
The twang also changes, imperceptible to most but impossible to miss by those who grew up here. As you approach the beach, and seasonal residences, Massachusetts accents like mine abound from those who come up for the summer and weekends. And even foreign accents from the influx of young people who work the summer jobs. In York Harbor, the mix changes still again with the addition of New York and Connecticut accents. All are important to our local economy and we welcome them all.
I promised to tell you the Story of Ames Field in this post. Alas, I have gone on too long, setting the stage. I must leave this for Part III. Will you look through my eyes one more time with me? I promise you that this is a special place and worth a return visit.
Part II is the only detour. Or perhaps not. The best detours are serendipity and never planned, like the day that I found this place. Or it found me. Perhaps it will find you, too.
I will leave you with another dawn view, as the ocean fog rolls across the field and through my door. You cannot use your eyes to see the ocean, merely your smell and hearing and the goosebumps of cool air on your arms. The fog feels like a blanket. 
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