When I think about where “home” is for me, my mind usually wanders to the familiar faces of friends and family who have always been there. But lately, especially since living abroad, my mind also wanders back to Ontario. I think of the changing seasons, the lakeside summers, the wide open space.
I also think about all the background details I grew up with, the little habits and sights and sounds that never seemed particularly noteworthy because they were just there. It wasn’t until I spent more time away from Ontario that I started realizing how many of those everyday things are actually quite specific to the place I grew up.
That said, here are some of the little things I reminisce about that remind me Ontario is my home.
Driving by fresh Ontario corn stands in August
There’s something so nostalgic to me about driving down a country road in August and spotting a bright hand-painted sign advertising local corn. It’s such a normal, Ontario thing, but it really is one of those unique quirks that remind me of home now that I live abroad.
Like with so many things, it seems, I never really stopped to think about those signs as part of the landscape. They were just there, along with the farm fields, gravel driveways and little roadside stands piled with whatever happened to be in season.
Black squirrels, raccoons and loons
One of my favourite things about moving abroad has been learning about the everyday wildlife that’s around, and how different it is from what I’m used to. Of course I can’t help but compare them to the animals I grew up surrounded by, particularly black squirrels, raccoons and loons.
Black squirrels are probably the funniest example — they were so common in Ontario that I assumed they were all black… until I realized, nope. People elsewhere actually find them noteworthy. Raccoons were another ordinary presence, especially around Toronto, where there’d be an entire family living in your recycling bin at any moment’s notice.
But loons hit differently. Hearing that long, eerie call carry across a lake in the evening is one of the sounds I associate most strongly with Ontario, and is probably the sound that makes me feel the most homesick.
Ontario’s small town fall fairs
Fall fairs might have been typical growing up in Ontario, but I’ve definitely come to see how distinctly a part of Ontario’s culture they are now. Every small town seems to have one, too, and they’re all kind of the same. You know, the ever-so-slightly questionable rides, candy apples, giant pumpkins, demolition derbies and hordes of teenagers. They always felt like stepping back in time. Even as a kid, I loved how old-fashioned they felt, like some little pocket of rural tradition that managed to survive unchanged.
Talking about the hydro bill
I didn’t fully clock that calling the electricity bill “hydro” was unusual until I left Ontario. At home, nobody really needed to explain what they meant by the hydro bill. It was just the hydro bill. The terminology feels completely logical in Ontario because so much of the province’s electricity has historically been associated with hydroelectric power, but outside that context it can sound like everyone is talking about water. It’s one of those funny linguistic habits that reveals where I’m from before I even notice I’m doing it.
Having tons to explore, even during the winter
Having tons to explore, even during the winter, is one of those things I took for granted growing up in Ontario. Winter can be long, grey and treacherously cold, but it never really meant staying inside. When I think back, some of my fave moments back home were set on frozen lakes, snowy trails and skating rinks.
I think Ontario does a particularly good job of making winter feel like a season to participate in rather than just endure. Provincial parks stay beautiful, small towns lean into festive events, and a regular dog walk can feel uncannily peaceful after a fresh snowfall. Living somewhere with a milder winter has made me appreciate that part of home a lot more, for sure. I definitely don’t miss scraping ice off a windshield, but I do miss how much the landscape transformed (don’t even get me started on the autumn leaves) and how many reasons there were to actually go out and enjoy it.
Canadian Shield rock appearing everywhere
The Canadian Shield is one of those things I didn’t realize had shaped my sense of what a landscape should look like until I spent enough time away from it. In Ontario, especially heading north, gigantic slabs of exposed rock just appear, whether you’re on the highway or by a lake.
Grey, pink and reddish stone pushes through the soil, usually covered in patches of lichen with baby pine trees magically growing out of tiny cracks. It was such ordinary scenery that I barely registered it growing up, but now I find it incredibly beautiful. And when I talk about it to friends who are curious about Canada, I can’t help but feel a sense of pride.
The opinions expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect the views of Narcity Media.
