My Home

September 24, 2012
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Drummond St. is a fairly quiet neighborhood. There are only four houses that are two stories, mine being one of them. Almost everyone on my street is at least 50 years old, so I grew up in a neighborhood with no children, except for my sister and me. Drummond St. has been, for me, such a beautiful and marvelous place to grow up. My street is filled with spectacular trees and other foliage that surround each of my neighbor’s houses and sometimes act as fences. Flowers outline my neighbors’ meticulously landscaped and manicured lawns. Deer, birds, bunnies, squirrels, and chipmunks are always in sight during the summer months, along with neighborhood cats and dogs. In the fall, thousands of leaves fill the old, dry, cracked road that I call home. The sight is absolutely astonishing, with the colors of red, orange, yellow, and brown floating in the sky with the blowing wind and eventually settling beneath each tree in heaps. Drummond St. has been such an extraordinary place to have grown up, and I’m thankful to call this street home.

In the summer months one can hear the insects loudly chirping during the noisiest time of the year on Drummond St. With my windows open I can hear my neighbor’s telephone when it rings and people walking and talking outside my door. There is an elderly lady who likes to bake food for my family in the summer and bring it over, as a repayment for my father shoveling her driveway during the cold winter months. The scent of her sweet, warm, homemade apple pie fills my home, and tastes as good as it smells. Each retired neighbor tries to beat the other to see who can mow his lawn first each week. Although my neighborhood is quiet, it is not fretful. People like to stroll down it, nod their heads to one another, and wish each other a good day.

Drummond St. is very long and curvy. It has an upper and lower part - with me living on the upper end. The upper and lower part are separated by N. Marvine St. As I gradually drive to my house, the street gets slightly steeper - hence to the name “upper Drummond”. Just steps away from Drummond is the back of Elementary School, and when I was younger, I often times walked to the playground there when school wasn’t in session.

I feel blessed to have been able to live on Drummond St., in a somewhat restrictive neighborhood of Auburn. My family has been blessed, and in turn has provided me with wonderful childhood memories while growing up on Drummond St. Although the street is not on a cul-de-sac, it is a very quiet street due to its configuration. Living here gives me a sense of peace and solitude. When I come up my street towards home and my house is in view, the feeling I get is marvellously spectacular.

I have walked up Drummond Street’s old, hard, gray pavement countless times. I know the path well and it knows me. I am at home here, and feel welcome. The trees extend their branches and meet the trees on the opposite side of the street, enveloping me. The sunshine peaks through the thick, brown branches and warms my face in an inviting manner. Squirrels chase each other up and down telephone lines. Chipmunks with cheeks stuffed full of food to hoard for the long winter months look as though they are smiling at me when they pass by. This street is like utopia to me - everything is so perfect and feels so natural.

Drummond St. has become a part of me and I am a part of it. It has been such a magical and spectacular place to grow up. Drummond St. has forever left its mark on me, and I hope to do the same for my children someday by raising them on this stupendous street, with the hopes that my family home will be passed down for many generations to come.





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