After taking a half-day workshop about labyrinths this spring, these intriguing designs have been flitting about the corners of my mind. I’d heard of various labyrinths in Maine, including at least one in Portland. This of course led me to wonder how many there are, what they are like, and whether Maine’s history of relationships with labyrinths extends further back, before the modern resurgence.
And then it occurred to me that others of you might like to know the answers to these questions, or you might just be curious about labyrinths in general, so… here you go! The first fresh Strange Maine blog article in a while, and hopefully the start of a series. Hope you enjoy!
How many labyrinths does Maine have? The Labyrinth Locator (labyrinthlocator.org), an excellent resource, lists a total of fifty-one labyrinths in Maine.
As with everything else in Maine, they run the gamut in their types, purposes, and accessibility.
Thirty-one are listed as public labyrinths. Thirteen are listed as private labyrinths.
In between these lie seven labyrinths available by appointment.
Their locations are divided almost equally between public places and private property.
Many are on the grounds of schools or churches.
Most are outdoors, but six live indoors, out of reach of the weather.
One labyrinth is temporary, and five are portable (yes, there are portable labyrinths!).
Two labyrinths on the registry are located in Portland, where I live. The first, at Trinity Episcopal Church, is near Woodfords Corner at 580 Forest Avenue. One of the “portable” labyrinths, this one is modeled after the labyrinth in the Chartres cathedral and painted on canvas, and carefully spread and lit for occasional Labyrinth Walks, when the church opens the doors to its Lincoln Hall for a couple of hours, allowing people to walk and meditate in a way that is uniquely personal and universal at the same time. NOTE: The last Labyrinth Walk posted to their Facebook page was on March 2nd, 2025.
The second, not far away, resides on the grounds of the University of New England, at 716 Stevens Avenue, backing onto the edge of Evergreen Cemetery behind the UNE Art Gallery. Crafted of local fieldstones by Ethan Stebbins, a Maine based master stone carver and wood crafter, it is a 5-circuit medieval pattern.
One is almost required to assume there are other Maine labyrinths not listed here officially, living their mazy lives off the grid or unknown to most of the public. It goes with the territory here.
Does Maine have a long history of labyrinths? At first glance, there is little to see. In the 1800s and 1900s, it was a common word appearing in the prose of local newspapers, though most often linked with conversational styles, politics, ancient foreign ruins, or mythology. It is not until around the year 2000 when articles start appearing about Mainers building their own labyrinths. However, I will continue to seek the entrance to this puzzle, and let you know if I find more! If past experiences are anything to go by, eventually something interesting will turn up.
If you are interested in labyrinths, you may find some kindred spirits at the Labyrinth Society (labyrinthsociety.org), among the most visible participants of the global labyrinth culture.
On a personal note:
I started writing and researching this article in the hopes I could return to a regular practice of adding brief stories to my blog. I quickly realized that the labyrinths of Maine (as with so many other Maine things!) are likely a larger journey, so I am going to use this post as a starting point, close to home, and work my way out from there. This way I can give attention to segments of Maine’s labyrinths, adding posts as I am able to visit them, or speak with folks involved with them – without finding myself immediately bogged down in yet another massive project that takes over a decade to complete [insert wild hilarity here].
The last 5 years have been rough, both personally for myself and my family, and financially for my business, the Green Hand Bookshop. This has often limited my free time and energy, as major real-world priorities took over, and the also-important but fun stuff, like my Maine historic research, was required more often than not to be set aside. In an attempt to mitigate this creative drought, I did squeeze in many efforts for a friend, things which aligned with my own Maine interests but fed their pursuits. It turned out this was a misjudgment on my part, rooted in the vulnerable path of some of my darkest Covid-era days, and undermined my own resources extensively -- and after five years they cut and ran, rewards grasped tightly in hand.
Through turmoil, tedium and grief, I have continued working on a number of larger in-depth research projects, so do not fear – things Strange Maine are still afoot, if in the shadows and underground. It’s one of the things that has kept me going through it all.
I look forward to the time soon when my obligations lift enough that I will fly free of those shadows and return to threading my roots deep within the forests and coastline of Maine. See you there, if not before!
