One of the many NH lakes that give the state its beauty.

It’s funny how we often take our home states for granted. Maybe we become immune to the unique beauty found there, our lens of the world fogged up by adolescent struggle or life disappointments? Sometimes, we say we never want to look back, that we can’t divorce those emotions from a crucible of a place where our identities were formed.

For me, I spent the majority of my growing up in the Lakes Region of New Hampshire. An impoverished factory city, Laconia’s beauty was no longer what it once had been.

Lake Winnipesaukee seen from Mount Major’s summit in early spring.

The town I largely grew up in was primarily a factory town turned city. In the late 19th century, my great-grandfather worked & lost an arm at the Belknap Mill during the height of industry, the earliest hosiery factory in New England. Built in 1823, the mill supplied the Civil War soldiers with seamless hosiery & bags. The factory stayed in operation until its close in 1969.

As covered in another post, my mother’s mother’s relatives came down from Québec City to work in the Laconia factories. One of the first mills built was the Avery Mill in 1813, which is interesting since those streets located closest to the mills still are associated with economic struggle & hardship. My uncle worked in a local factory that tinted his white hair yellow & gave him a chronic respiratory disease.

That lens of poverty in city hard hit by economic downturn, which led to widespread substance abuse issues & homelessness, I admit, tinted my view before I left for college.

The name “Winnipesaukee” according to local lore is supposed to mean “smile of the Great Spirit.”

Certainly, the Lakes Region is absolutely stunning in its beauty, rivaling Lake Geneva as a smaller, more domestically located version of the Swiss jewel. And I remember many summers spent on its shores or in boats, navigating from Paugus Bay to Lake Opechee, or jumping over to Lake Winnisquam instead. Boating, swimming, fishing, water-skiing, tubing, jumping off tree swings into the water, sunbathing, playing in the sand. So many summers spent at the beach or The Weirs boardwalk, with arcades and fireworks.

You could drive around Lake Winnipesaukee in a loop my mother affectionately calls “The Victory Run” –a tradition set with my father. My parents met at a barn dance during the summer of 1958 in Meredith, my dad staying at his well-off parent’s home on Spindle Point, while my mother lived on Lake View Farm on Parade Road. So, my family has deep ties to NH.

View from Mount Belknap.

When I started traveling & returned to hike local mountains with views at their summits, I began to better recognize the innate beauty of this state. In one state you can find mountains, lakes, ocean–all with different character & settings. After visiting spectacular views of the Alps, the Italian coast, the English Cotswolds, the Scottish lowlands, & Hawaiian volcanic summits, I developed a more mature, seasoned appreciation for my home state.

View of Lake Winnipesaukee from Mount Roberts.

And so I continue to reflect on this discovery, how we take the things, places, even people, we love most often for granted. Like somehow they are of less value because they were easily gotten. We didn’t suffer to gain them, so we devalue their worth, which says something about how we view ourselves I think. Or maybe it’s just me. Or was me.

My home remains in New Hampshire, & I continue in my efforts to give back to her. Repay her for all of the people, places, & seasons I’ve loved. She’s worth it, even though I don’t tell her enough how much I have appreciated her gifts.

A New Hampshire summer sunset.

Lake Winnipesaukee at winter dusk.