Seasonal closures won’t stop Maine lives

By the skin on our chinny-chin-chins, we made it to the restaurant the day before its seasonal closing. And to the Cat before its last zip across the waters from Bar Harbor to Yarmouth. And to the ice cream parlor before the sign went up on its door: closed.

By Columbus Day, many restaurants, local attractions and shops along coastal Maine were battening down their hatches, not to reopen until Memorial Day.

“Thanks for the great season; see you next year,” the signs say, reminding us year-rounders the boutiques, galleries and bistros would stand vacant for the next seven months. Decks in front of cafes are covered with chairs, upside down on tables, while window boxes droop with drying, dying flowers. Antique shop windows are being boarded as if in preparation for a hurricane; picnic benches are being draped with tarps.

The Roosevelt cottage at Campobello has closed for tours, despite the dahlias blooming in festive colors at the side of stone walkways where throngs of visitors trekked daily throughout the summer.

“Closed,” “Closing,” “Get Your Last Licks In,” “Final Sale,” “See You Next Spring.” The signs of the times would suggest Maine is a “Summering Place,” as the title of a historical book about our Down East community indicates.

That’s not really so. There are plenty of B&Bs, hotels, motels, museums, inns, restaurants and stores that remain open through Maine’s four seasons. There will be concerts and festivals and nearly as much outdoor activity come winter as in summer.

Regardless of the season, we can view harbor seals in Lubec and photograph West Quoddy Head Lighthouse. We can perch high above Schoodic Point; we can frequent specialty stores in Ellsworth. Later, we can attend the December Festival of Lights in Eastport, walk the picturesque, snow-covered streets of Camden, hear magical music in Blue Hill and enjoy countless hours at the Maine Center for the Arts in Orono.

We can snowmobile in Jackman, ski at Sugarloaf, ice fish in Sebago, cross-country ski just about anywhere there’s a golf course, and contra dance in many a town hall.

But right now, the day after Columbus Day, some folks would think the whole state was closing up and they better get through the tollbooths before the Kittery bridge blocks traffic.

Maine isn’t merely a “summering place,” but in too many coastal towns, it certainly feels – and looks – that way. More and more so, every year. It’s like “last call” at a bar, the last swig for many long months.