Growing up, I didn’t have any real opinion of New Milford, CT. I knew it was home. I knew it provided me my elementary and secondary education and my friends. I knew that it snowed in the winter and boiled in the summer. I never necessarily loved it there. I didn’t hate it either, although like every teenager, I couldn’t wait to get out. I want to go and explore and see new places (even if I only ended up going to college an hour away in Hartford).
I’ve realized that semi-adult me (honestly, when do you actually become an adult? Because I think it’s never) has become so much more
aware appreciative of what little middle-of-nowhere CT really has to offer. The transformation that occurs here in the springtime is remarkable. The flowers, plants, and trees that all slowly awake from their winter slumber. Leaves that yawn their way open from tightly shut little buds and tulips, daffodils, and irises that arise like magic from the once-barren ground.
Even now, the first few days of June, the scenery still amazes me. Rolling hills of green (NM Greenwave) and sun peeking through tree branches to cast a cooling shadow on a nearby open field. It truly is an incredible place, and I’m lucky to have grown up here and be working here for at least the next few years.