By Lum Pennington
Where, and what, exactly is home?
Like many people I have had a multitude of homes. “Home” has been a moving target, catapulting around the country driven by employment, curiosity and happenstance.
Destined by birth to have affection for New England’s many charming and unique attributes, I left home nonetheless. The region’s stark architecture, its winding, sun-dappled roads; these things feel right and familiar, along with ancient stonewalls running through mature forests that were once the open fields of homesteads, cider mills bustling with activity in the fall, the smell of my grandmother’s kitchen, and a favorite aunt who taught me to eat nasturtiums.