Marlowe Evans – Maple Ridge, BC

Few places are more beautiful than the woods in British Columbia, and I was afforded the unique privilege of growing up there. I remember a single night where I snuck out with my friends; we wandered into a clearing, the campground sound asleep. No sounds but our footsteps disturbed the night-talk of the meadow. We crossed, climbed down a cliff to the edge of the lake. They taught me to skip stones, and I was bad, too transfixed by the way the mountains melted into the lake to take note of the lesson. There is nothing about my hometown more beautiful than that night – witching hour in a meadow and ankle-deep in dark water.

Taylor Chalker – Avondale, NL

I grew up with the ocean as my backyard, and I can’t recall a single childhood memory that doesn’t involve her. She was always there to keep my paddle boat afloat, deliver a treasure to the rocky beaches that I combed incessantly, or to lull me to sleep with the sound of her crashing waves. I still long for her sharp, salty scent when I find myself homesick, and gratefully inhale that nostalgic familiarity when I find myself sitting on her uneven shores once again. 

Jules Keenan – Blackville, NB

Having a twin brother and a sister in a three-bedroom home meant I was left with nothing that was truly my own. So I took the trees as my sanctuary. I remember walking alone through the forests in the quiet, quiet heart of winter, using the weighed-down pine trees as houses to explore and live in. I have made many pillows out of carefully piled fresh snow. I still seek out stark, cold air to clear my clouded head and lungs, and I blame this addiction to these stress-free moments in childhood. 

Jack Sparks – Vojens, Denmark

I was headed home to a place I’d never known, a place I wouldn’t recognize. Three hours on a train from Copenhagen to Vojens, back to where I was born, back to where my dad played hockey in Denmark. Hindbærvej 2K, the duplex unit that was my first home, was empty and unlocked, and I walked right in. I looked around and was satisfied. Later, I ordered a pizza for the train back to Copenhagen at a small restaurant on Vestergade Street, and a worker asked me where I was from. “Canada. But I’m originally from here,” I said. “I just left a lifetime ago.”

Ibukun Keyamo – Ibadan, Nigeria

Despite being the largest city in West Africa, Ibadan still somehow manages to maintain small-town charm. I have spent all 16 years of my life there, and there are still times I marvel at the simple beauty of the place. From the sea of rust-coated roofs you see when you are at any high-point of the city, to the people with their big hearts and thick Yoruba accents. The best moments are at night, when calm washes over the city and you take a drive out, passing by the numerous barbeque stands, up one of the hills, and find a place to look out over the city. Streetlights highlight the roofs; it is a vision of red and yellow.

Andrew McCullough – St. Andrews, NB

One can’t think of my hometown, St. Andrews, New Brunswick without thinking of the churning tide, salt-water smell, and aquaculture. For a few years I lived in a small cottage right against the water that would creak as the turbulent winds beat on the old wooden slats. The weather dominated the narrative in St. Andrews. One of my earliest memories is of waiting in the car, my father returning a VHS tape to the Video Shoppe. It is nighttime, and it is downpouring, and I can’t see more than a few feet ahead of the car. Millions of tiny raindrops come together to form a cacophonous storm. As the rain pounds the roof of the vehicle, idling on Water Street, I’m suddenly aware of how small I was – just a tiny raindrop in a much bigger world.

Ally Buchanan – Hampton, NB

Hampton takes Canada Day very seriously. And I’ve never been crazy about the patriotic colonial holiday, but for the last four years I have worked the town-sponsored events, through my job at the pool. The fireworks are the best part. It’s 10:30 p.m., and the entire town is gathered on the hill near where they begin, the best vantagepoint. I am sunburnt, chlorine soaked, and exhausted, lying on my back in the grass. Kids run around, my coworkers are dividing leftover cake, and families are struggling to find seats. A boom sounds, everyone goes quiet, and the sky is filled with colour.