I grew up in this pretty little beach town--East Lyme--and I don't think I fully appreciated it until I moved away. From Memorial Day through Labor Day, tourists (whom we residents less-than-affectionately called "summer people") flocked here in droves to park themselves on the town's sandy-white beaches. As kids, we tolerated this seasonal population boom, but I'm not sure we really understood it. What was all the fuss about, anyway?
After college, when I lived in Manhattan (quite a different town!), I would occasionally take the Amtrak train to Old Saybrook, where my parents would meet me at the station and drive me back to our East Lyme home. It was on one of those train trips when I noticed that almost all the passengers in my train car stopped what they were doing--looked up from their books, their newspapers, their various diversions--to simply gaze out at the shoreline view. It was my town we were passing through.
I think that's when I fully realized just how good I'd had it, growing up in this pretty little beach town. I still go back from time to time, to pay my respects.
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How 'bout you? Did you appreciate where you grew up?
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