Sense of Place At Home

For Thanksgiving break I went back home to Orchard Park, NY which is a town right outside of the city of Buffalo. I’d say that my sense of place here is greater than anywhere else on Earth. I know my hometown like the back of my hand and could navigate around it blindfolded. After being away from my hometown for three months, I have gained a better appreciation for it. In high school I had always thought that I would want to travel far away and live the life of a vagabond. I dreamed about chasing new horizons and thought that the old saying, “home is where the heart is,” was just a cliche. Coming home for a short week reminded me of all the simple things that I have missed over the past three months. My most memorable sense of place in my hometown is my house, which is tucked away on a quiet road in a wooded area. My house was built in 1930 by a farmer and was constructed based on dutch colonial architecture. We have pictures of the house during its construction and the land around it was once baron with open fields. Now it is covered with a canopy of tall silver oaks and sugar maples. Towards the back of the yard is a big white barn with a pasture full of animals including goats, chickens, ducks, rabbits, a pot-belly pig and a mean old goose. We’ve had several other animals in and out of the barn, but those are just a few honorable mentions. My mother is also a certified wildlife rehabilitator, so we get a few wild animals through the house now and then. Having all these critters around my house has given me a fascination for wildlife and is the leading reason why I chose wildlife biology as my major. While at home on break I found my sense of place with my animals, especially when my yellow lab named Finley would curl up in my bed. Another significant source of sense of place at my house is my family. My sister and mother usually fill the house with their long and loud chats about anything under the sun, while my brothers usually seek refuge in the garage to work on anything with an engine. Our house is usually a revolving door with my siblings constantly coming and going. Sometimes life at my house gets hectic, but I wouldn’t want it any other way. My favorite place to go outside my house is a state park called Chestnut Ridge, which has several shelters, trails and an overlook towards the city. It’s the perfect place to hang up some hammocks and chill out with my closest friends. During break I did just that and there’s nothing quite like laughing over all the trouble we used to get in high school. These bittersweet memories have painted an image of what my town is to me. Without memory there is no familiar sense of place. Orchard Park, NY would have no meaning to me if it wasn’t for the sense of place that I created there throughout my life. During my visit back home, my mind was filled with aesthetics that I hadn’t felt in months. Maybe home really is where the heart is. 

A picture of my house
My dog Finley in front of my brother’s truck with wind surfboards strapped on
Low quality pictures, taken with my 35 mm film camera, of the overlook at Chestnut Ridge Park