Sometimes, you have to leave home to realize how much you love where you live, and I’ve recently done just that. I often wax rhapsodic about life in the Upper Delaware River region, and this part of the world is certainly home to me—but when I take a vacation and revisit my roots, I have to admit that I also love where I’ve been, specifically the Finger Lakes. The region was my home away from home for many, many years.

While my childhood was far from idyllic, there were aspects of it that felt positively magical, including everyday life on the shores of the mighty Susquehanna River, but most especially summers on the shores of Seneca Lake. I feel fortunate to have had those years, and realized long ago that settling down amid the pristine beauty and tranquility of Sullivan County was a salute to that era and all of the good memories that it represented. 

When I’m fortunate enough to earn some time off from the hustle and bustle of life in the Catskills, I invariably find myself leaving Kauneonga Lake in the rearview mirror and heading for the Finger Lakes instead. 

Long gone are the urges to travel the world and see the sights of exotic locales—what we dream about when we’re young. “Been there, done that,” I yelp at the dog as she flaps her ears in the wind.

We leave Sullivan behind and steer toward Schuyler County, home to Watkins Glen. It’s located at one end of Seneca, the largest of the Finger Lakes, which include the glacially carved-out Cayuga, Canandaigua and Keuka, to name but a few. 

“It’s not the same,” I insist when childhood pals come to visit and ask if I’m not just trading one lakeside view for another. “Yes, I live in the woods, and yes, I live near a beautiful lake, and yes, it’s a (mostly) peaceful way of life, but it’s different, I swear.”

It might not be apples and oranges, per se—but what is now known as “wine country” is definitely different, and it’s rich with misty water-colored memories of a simpler time. 

Apparently, I’ve been quite vocal about how much I love those memories and the area that they stem from, because this time around friends flocked to visit me and my travel companion Lynne. Including the River Reporter’s Eileen Hennessy, who called way back in January to inform me that she had “rented the cottage two doors down” from us for half of my lakeside stay.

Flabbergasted, I asked why on earth she would do such a thing, and was told that my enthusiasm for the region did not go unnoticed. So she decided “to check it out, too” and I decided that I have a big mouth, IMHO.

Seeing as I was looking to get away from it all, I was somewhat disgruntled about Eileen’s plans to crash my party, but after insisting that she invite a friend to join her, I discovered that it was (thankfully) kinda fun to share Seneca Lake with someone from this part of the world. And we loved her friend Paula, so there’s that. 

The pair took me up on several (Jonathan-free) sight-seeing suggestions, including a short lake cruise courtesy of Captain Bill’s, a day trip to the world-famous Corning Museum of Glass and another to a museum dedicated to  the classic holiday film “It’s a Wonderful Life.” The last is located in Seneca Falls, which is believed to have inspired the fictional town of the movie’s Bedford Falls, situated at the opposite end of the 38-mile-long lake. 

Left to our own devices, Lynne and I entertained some of my childhood friends and I was reminded that my “special place” is not such a secret after all. During our stay “far from the madding crowd,” we visited with artist/friends and ex-Hurleyville residents Ann Finneran and Richard Seehausen, who were visiting relatives on Keuka Lake nearby. I was surprised to learn that another pair of local artist/friends—Joan Glase and Rocky Pinciotti—were simultaneously vacationing on the lake, staying in a place on Plum Point, literally down the road a piece from my slice of heaven.

All in all, I was gone for 10 glorious days, and while thrilled to be in that neck of the woods, was happy (as always) to come home to roost. Following past visits to the Finger Lakes, I’ve written columns titled “There’s no place like home,” “You can’t go home again” and “Home is where the heart is.” If we’re lucky enough, Lynne and I will get to return next year, like the swallows of Capistrano, but for now, I’m happily reminded to “love where you live”—hashtag not included. 

Fun Fact: “Far from the Madding Crowd” was author Thomas Hardy’s fourth novel and first major literary success. It originally appeared anonymously as a monthly serial in Cornhill Magazine.