"A sense of place is the sixth sense, an internal compass and map made by memory and spatial perception together.” —Rebecca Solnit
It is easy to loose your sense of where you are from when you have so many places to call home. The town where you are from, the town where you attend grade school, your boarding school, your college, or where you spend your summers. When you spend your days in the car commuting, on a train to the city, or living in school dorm buildings; it is easy to forget the world around you. The sky scrappers, smog, and traffic can have you feeling trapped. When you feel like you have roots growing from ten different places, but are never fully rooted.
That is why I don’t call where I live in Connecticut my home. I go ‘home’ to my house in Maine for only a week or two each year, this is the place where I feel at peace with life and where I don’t have a care in the world. Where my days are spent climbing mountains and swimming in the seemingly endless lake. Where there is never traffic, because no one is ever in a rush to get to his or her destination. When I am home in Maine the sky seems endless and the stars seem to shine brighter each year.
Wallace Stegner stated, in A Sense of Place, “It is probably time we looked around us instead of looking ahead.” From the top of the watchtower at the top of one of my favorite mountains, I look out and take in my amazing view. I see the sun shinning off the lake, I can see our property in the distance, and there is a magical feeling of peace that I have never felt anywhere else. At this moment nothing else in the world seems to matter to me. Time stops and I forget about the drama of work and school, the fight that I had with my parents or my sister, the annoyances of growing up, the problems with the economy, and everything else in the world. At that moment I am only in the here and now. I am looking around instead of ahead.