Ode to Peterborough

Dear Peterborough.

I grew up in the part of South Western Ontario where small towns are wedged between soft cornfields and ocean-like great lakes. I lived and worked for six weeks in a quaint Northern town with just one store where four year olds wondered alone quite safely because everyone knew each other. I have visited and lived in towns so small that people know that you're a visitor. I have seen majestic rivers bordered by large rolling hills. I have visited multicultural urban cities and crumbling historical sites, but the place that I call home, the place where my heart is happiest, is just a boring old mid sized city situated on either side of a skinny dirty river.

But Peterborough, you are so much more than that to me.

Many others say you're too small to be interesting and too big to be quaint, but I know better.
I've walked past your pub patios on Friday nights in the summer time and heard the poetic mix of music and laughter that is night life done right and I've walked past little shops and cafes and bumped into friends on every corner in a way that makes you seem just about as quaint as can be.

And I know there are places with beauty that is more fit for a post card than yours is, because I've seen them. But Peterborough, you know I don't like my poetry in a can. I don't care much for beauty that anyone can see in just a second. I like to search for my beauty. You make it easy to find, but not too easy. I like that about you.

I love how you offer quiet country and forests within the bustle of a city.

I love your zoo, your river, your bridges, your market, your food not bombs, your hilly views, but most of all, dear dear Peterborough, I love your people.

When I stop to wonder why I love you so, that is biggest reason.

You are the first place I ever really and truly felt at home.

Thank you.
I miss you, but don't you worry. I will return.
Laurissa.