There's No Place Like Home

I grew up in a small, rural town in upstate NY.  Before the farm down the road was sold and divvied up into plots for new homes, my road--about a mile long--held 5 houses.  Corn, alfalfa, and assorted other plant life sprang up in the fields; cows were raised around the corner.  My brother and I, along with our neighbors, spent summers laying in between the stalks and stems, staring at the stars or hiking along.  We spent countless hours playing in the creek and catching fireflies.  When winter rolled around, we would build snowmen and igloos and go sledding down the giant hill until our fingers were numb. 

I never took that for granted.  I was a "country bumpkin," as my dad would put it, and I loved it to the fullest.  I lived for the outdoors and hiking and camping and canoeing and fishing; I never got the appeal of "city living."  I would spend a week around Christmas or Easter and a few weeks in the summer visiting family in Brooklyn and, while I loved every second of the visits, I always thought "I could never live in a city!"  I needed grass under my feet.  I needed a huge yard with neighbors out of sight, not just blocked by fences or some shrubbery.  I needed the creek that ran through our backyard.  I needed the Milky Way.  I did NOT need the sounds of buses and upstairs neighbors.  I did not need the smell of what my grandma's foreign neighbors were cooking each night.  I did not need grimy feet and garbage blowing around from the sidewalk.

When it came time to settle on a college, I worried.  Every school that had my program of choice was in a major city (or what felt like a city in comparison to my hometown).  My decision to attend UNH gave me some relief, since the student population was so small and the move was only temporary.  After undergrad, I stayed at UNH for my Master's.  Since graduate housing did not exist, I moved into my own apartment in New Haven.  I was surrounded by identical brick buildings and concrete as far as the eye could see.  From my kitchen and bedroom windows, I could see a gas station, a package store, and some run down (mostly student-rented, mostly frat) houses.  I reminded myself again and again that "this is only temporary."

But you know what?  City living has grown on me.  I enjoy having civilization at my fingertips.  I don't have to drive 20 minutes on highways just to do my shopping.  My friends are close.  Major cities are a short trip away.  And, notice, I didn't say a short drive away...public transportation exists.  Buses get me to and from work daily and I can hop a train or bus to countless places.  I can jump in my car, get on the highway and be in Providence, Boston, or Philadelphia in less than 3.5 hours.  In the four years that have passed since I completed grad school, I've learned not only to love city living but I've also grown accustomed to it.  I get weirded out when I go somewhere without streetlights.  Places with a lack of public transportation frustrate me.  Not being able to grab a cab home from the bar seems utterly ridiculous.  And having to drive 30+ minutes to get to Target?  No, thank you.

New Haven, Connecticut, New England in general, have an abundance of parks and beaches to keep me content and in touch with my roots but that's not to say I never get homesick.  There are nights where I long to see more than a handful of stars in the sky.  Where I'd love to hear a babbling brook instead of my neighbor's car alarm.  But this new life makes me appreciate home all the more.  There's a huge contrast between the two places, both in terms of the positives and negatives, but home will always be "home" and it will always win the beauty contest.

I returned to NY over the weekend for my 10 year reunion (it's terrifying how fast time has gone by!).  It was the first time in over 5 months that I had been back (and, really, last time hardly counts as it was only for approximately 12 hours) so I took full advantage of relaxing...and napping...in the sun and taking countless photos around my parents' yard. 

The creek that runs behind my childhood home.

Saw so many of these little guys running around this weekend.

This view will never, ever get old.

This is what I see every time I sit on the porch with my cup of tea!