Our undiscovered speck of Maine not only has been found, it’s changing so fast residents are experiencing the bends.

No time to decompress now.

We didn’t need to read the tea leaves to see this coming, but most of us reckoned the change would be gradual – not like a tsunami but more like a high run tide creeping up on our community.

Wrong again. The modern-day explorer sniffs out investment opportunities more ably than a bloodhound chasing coyotes. Throw in real estate marketing strategy, Internet searches and an innate GPS with dollar signs, and what you have are coastal communities being gobbled up Tom Jones style, no silverware needed. Just hands tearing meat off bones.

Two years ago, a savvy summer resident warned we would not recognize our community in five years. How about

now?

Where is the brown house on the corner where a couple of generations of family lived, or the very old house that sat close to the sharp curve, or the tiny bungalow on the main drag that was used as a starter home for several young couples, or another two-story house that was part of our streetscape?

Per the new owners’ requests, wrecking machines have reduced the familiar structures to piles of debris; other homes and buildings have been burned in fire department training. Grassy knolls and open spaces – in the heart of the village – thrive where cellar holes were filled.

Along the stretches with a waterfront view, grassy knolls and open spaces, conversely, have given rise to gigantic vacation getaways, dubbed “trophy homes” by the locals.

Many of these mansions can be seen only from the water, changing forever the view from a lobster boat, day sailor or kayak, manned by those mariners accustomed to Maine’s craggy shoreline left unaltered for so, so many years.

Where once rocky cliffs were coated white with droppings from cormorants and gulls, now sprawling houses with towers and multilevels and decks and skylights and hundreds of windows cover coastal spots.

Take a look at the real estate pages of newspapers and magazines. Something has happened while many of us Mainers took a long winter’s nap. Millions. These houses along the Down East coast – many of them recently constructed – are being advertised for millions: $1.8 million, $4.5 million, $7 million. Take a look at lots for sale: $350,000, $750,000. Take a look at forested mountaintops being developed in 10-acre whacks, or an entire harbor view peninsula with three residences sold intact.

For most Down Easters, town zoning, planning boards and ordinances are anathema. As in, what I do with my property is my own business.

Yet, folks around here suddenly are mighty interested in what you do with yours. Especially when you’re altering our revered seascapes, landscapes or streetscapes, making dramatic changes that are indeed indelible.