Welcoming Visitors

Photo by Sam Dedmon

Alone or in a group, crows don’t strike me as tubby, inelegant birds. But when they’re trying to chase an osprey, they look like pot-bellied wood stoves attempting to menace an F-16. 

From my kitchen table this morning, I watched one lone crow fly in hot pursuit of an osprey, the crow furiously flapping its little heart out while its target calmly glided away, a single wingbeat to the crow’s 50, if that.

Like the ospreys, ruby-throated hummingbirds have also returned to Maine, and three were recently sighted in Bangor. Crows won’t drive off hummingbirds, but hummingbirds sure will. I write next to the window where we hang our feeder, and all summer long, I enjoy hearing that telltale hum as one bird feeds, followed by the inevitable tiny revving sound of another hummingbird dive-bombing its competition. 

Here in Washington County, I’d say we generally get along better than most, but the idea of another springtime migration recently ruffled feathers on a local social media page. “Some Brief Thoughts on Marketing Washington County, Maine” by Bob Trescott drew more than 150 comments, the vast majority of them along the lines of “Please don’t market Washington County, Maine, Bob.”

Maine has a long tradition of ambivalence about tourism, to my thinking most humorously displayed in the state’s own 1994 ad campaign asking Mainers to be kind to its visitors.

"Tourism isn't always what you think," read one ad from the Maine Office of Tourism. "Let's welcome these visitors warmly."

People who love living in Washington County — and who wouldn’t, I ask you —  tend to love its rural character, its unspoiled natural beauty, and the easy, friendly way we come together all year round, or don’t.

Hannaford, Machias’s only grocery store and nerve center of our social scene, is a perfect microcosm of the Downeast social culture. Push your cart quickly, looking straight ahead, and we’ll nod as you pass us. Amble and make eye contact, and you’re in for a chat. 

Washington County is an easy place to find community if you want it, and it’s a great place to find quiet if you don’t.

But could an increase in tourism change all of that? 

I’m not so sure that it could. Or at least, I’m not sure it’s likely to, anytime soon.

More likely, I think, is that even with concerted efforts, we might be looking at continued, modest economic growth, which could favorably impact our population trends. As this article shows, our civilian labor force has decreased by a little over 1,200 people in the last 14 years.

Which is a large reason why I can’t go out for pancakes on a weekday.

Gentle growth, said Trescott, could come from focusing on our unique strengths, such as our unusual history, as the Revolutionary War Reenactors of Downeast Maine and Tides Institute do, or this new land preserve from Maine Coast Heritage Trust will. 

Maybe word spreads, and a few more people, history lovers, plan to attend the Margaretta Days Festival this June. Maybe they book a room and tie it together with a bike ride around Cobscook Shores or an ATV ride on the Downeast Sunrise Trail. Maybe they stop for a lobster roll or pizza when they’re done. In fact, they probably will do all of those things because, according to data compiled by DownEast Acadia Regional Tourism, 60 percent of visitors to our region participate in outdoor activities, 67 percent of them dine out, and 80 percent of them stay in paid lodging. 

But, lodging in Washington County is in high demand. Seeing that, maybe an enterprising local decides to build a new hotel. Maybe a new family comes to town to help build it, or run it, and maybe one of them takes a local summer job, filling a vacancy in a local restaurant. Suddenly I can get pancakes on a Wednesday.

Which, I think we can all agree, is perhaps the highest possible outcome of increased tourism.

While waiting for my youngest to finish driver’s ed, this week I spent an enjoyable hour along the East Machias River, seen in this week’s postcard, and in this short video I made about the rich history of this small river segment.

From the opposite riverbank, a large osprey made its displeasure known as I walked in its direction. Eventually, it took off circling behind the river, where it has wisely chosen to nest. In a few short weeks the East Machias will be teeming with alewives rushing back in from the ocean.

Especially in the morning, visitors to the riverbank will be able to observe seals, eagles, ospreys, otters, and gulls as they flock to the feast. 

I highly recommend it.