In the Potato Fields

This story comes to us from a new MMer named Andrea who lives up in Aroostook County. She lives in a small town nestled in a bend of the St. John River. Her family has always been potato farmers, and they plant fields upon fields of them every year. However she was always warned by her grandmother never to go out into the fields during the nights leading up to harvest. Andrea told us that she listened to her grandmother for most of her life and avoided the fields, until her teenage years when she and her friends stayed out just a little too late one night.

As they covered what was left of their bonfire for the night, Andrea parted ways with her friends and began to walk home through the potato rows. The moon was just bright enough for her to avoid tripping if she walked slowly. On her way home she was met with a whistling shriek, she stopped in her tracks as small shadows skittered in and around her legs. She panicked and began to run, more shrieks errupted as she ran. She stumbled and landed face first in a large mound of potatoes that had been freshly dug up. As she scrambled to pick herself up her hand found what felt like a potato but it had a strange leathery outer shell, and was warm to the touch. Upon picking up the object there was a symphony of shrieks and strange chittering sounds. She clutched the odd potato like object to her chest and ran back towards her house.

As she neared her house she turned back and saw several small creatures with large eyes following her. She quickly entered the house and closed the door. The next morning the only evidence of the creatures was the scratches on her front door no higher than her knee and the now cold object she had picked up. It wasn't a potato, nor was it a rock, she has no idea what it is but suspects its an egg of some sort. This was nearly twenty five years ago, but she still keeps the object as a reminder of her strange encounter in the potato fields.

Andrea sent us these photos of the object

If you are ever in norhthern Maine during the potato harvest, make sure you stay out of the fields at night, you never know if these little creatures will be around! Stay safe out there, Maine!

The Meadow People

Stories of elves, dwarves, gnomes, and faeries have been spread by humans for thousands of years. What about small humanoid creatures fascinates us? This story comes to us from MMer Anna who wants to help her mother Alice share her story about the miniature people she has taken care of for years. 

Starks Maine, located in Somerset County

Alice lives in Stark Maine, a haven for people of a naturalistic mentality, it is a place best known for its steps to legalize marijuana before it was a popular stance. Alice and her husband Charlie built a homestead in the hills near Stark nearly fifty years ago, and their cozy home oversees a large lush meadow.  Alice and Charlie were always very conscientious about their impact on the natural world, they only took what they needed and they tried their best to be self-sufficient. They composted, recycled, reused, and if they cut down a tree they used every part of it, thanks to Charlie’s skill as a woodworker and carver. Charlie passed away around ten years ago and for many years Alice couldn’t bring herself to go into his workshop. 

One time after a heavy rain that flooded the meadow down the hill from their home, Alice heard strange almost musical noises coming from Charlie’s old workshop. She peeked her head in and saw among the cobwebs and old woodworking tools several creatures no more than 7 or 8 inches tall. They had oblong heads, long necks, and a spindly torso and limbs. They were gathered around even smaller figures and seemed to be keeping them warm in the chilly and moist morning air. When Alice pushed the door open to get a better look the hinges squeaked and the creatures scattered to the darkest corners of the workshop. 

Over the next few years Alice gradually built a rapport with the creatures, leaving food scraps in the shed, and leaving small pieces of fabric from her knitting projects in there. Alice is slowly losing the fight of aging, she is finding it hard to move around as much now due to arthritis, and her glaucoma grows worse month by month. She says soon her family is going to make her move from her idyllic Stark home, closer to her daughter so they can take better care of her. But all Alice worries about is the little meadow people who live near her. She doesn’t want to leave until she is sure they will be taken care of. 

Alice asks us to inform everyone we can about the existence of the meadow people and tell them to check sheds, outbuildings, barns, and workshops for them and to try to help them out whenever they can. 

Help save the meadow people, and stay safe out there, Maine!