Every now and then, I meet someone who feels obliged to share a (thankfully rare) dose of holiday “cheer.”

“I hate the holiday season,” they’ll growl through gritting teeth. “It’s too hectic. It’s too commercialized. It’s just a pain in the (I think you can imagine the body part that usually follows).

“I’ll be glad when they’re over,” they’ll say.

Me? I disagree. Holidays are, I figure, as hectic as you choose to make them. Commercialization affects you only as much as you allow it to.

And when they’re over … I’ll begin looking forward to next year.

Today is Thanksgiving, folks. Hopefully you’re heading someplace special today, and spending the day with people you love.

I am. And I’m thankful for that.

“Thanks,” of course, is the phrase of the day today. As a guy who gets paid to spend his time outdoors … hunting … fishing … hiking … and just enjoying the things that make Maine special, I realize that there are plenty of things that deserve our wholehearted thanks.

(Like, for instance, the fact that the bosses decided that such a kid-in-the-candy-store job should exist … and that I ought to be the person to have it.)

But there’s much more. Good stuff. Special stuff. Stuff that won’t likely make it into the hallowed and time-approved pre-meal blessing, but which deserves our attention nonetheless.

Perhaps some of these will ring true with you.

Are you thankful for the chance to live in a state where the water is clean, the woods vast, and the wildlife plentiful?

(If not, my sarcastic side suggests you immediately stop reading this column, pack your bags, and move to New Jersey. Which exit? It’s up to you).

Are you thankful that people you’ve never met will open their door to you, shake your hand, and allow you to hunt or fish or hike on their family land?

If you’re not … you may be part of the reason that each year, more acreage is being posted against such usage. And if you do … grab a few Christmas cards and send them to those who’ve allowed you access in the past.

Are you thankful that you have children? Of course you are. And are you thankful that you were there when Junior or Juniorette decided to toss aside their video game controller and accompany you on an afternoon of fishing or hunting or plain ol’ tromping-through-the-woods?

That hasn’t happened yet? You haven’t offered to take them? Do it. You’ll be glad you did.

Then you’ll be thankful for the smile on Junior’s face when he wrestles the monster sunfish to the boat. Or you’ll be thankful for the chance to explain what deer tracks look like … and why the wind makes a difference when you’re looking for deer … or why that squirrel is sitting five feet away from you, apparently unaware that the two lumps leaning motionless against the tree are not, in fact, part of the tree.

You’ll be thankful that you got to show your daughter the difference between a fir and a spruce. That you showed her how tasty a simple sandwich and cup of hot chocolate can be, when they’re enjoyed in the woods … with someone who loves you.

Are you thankful that you still have the strength and desire to get out of bed at 4 a.m., hop into your truck, and hike two miles into the woods just to make sure that you’re ready as soon as the trout are?

Are you thankful for the brilliant sunrise that slowly wakens a slumbering, placid, not-a-ripple pond after making that early morning hike?

And are you thankful for the equally stunning sunset that follows, hours later … after casting to rises that nobody else has seen all day … and catching fish that nobody else caught all day … just because you were willing and able to get off your couch and head into the woods?

Are you thankful for the special places, shared with special people? Family and friends … young and old … new acquaintances and old pals.

Do you tell those friends and family members how much you appreciate the fact that they were able to put aside other commitments and obligations, just to make one more trip into the woods?

Are you thankful because you realize that each trip is special, and that another trip is never guaranteed … though it may be planned and anticipated?

And are you thankful for the campfire that flickers in the darkness, casting eerie shadows while signaling the end of another fantastic day in this place we’re blessed to call home?

I think you are.

I know I am.

Happy Thanksgiving.

John Holyoke can be reached at jholyoke@bangordailynews.net or by calling 990-8214 or 1-800-310-8600.