Living in a town that boasts a mere 27 square miles has made me appreciate the merits of having a car. Moving from Ellicott City, Md., a sprawling, indistinct area with four high schools, to the enclave of Wilton was a culture shock. It’s safe to say that I had never before experienced the bizarre anomaly of “town spirit.”
When I first moved here, our quaint downtown area was the epicenter of my middle school adventures. Being able to walk from school with my friends, unaccompanied by adults, bright pink backpack in tow, to Swizzles for a large helping of tart fro-yo and then to the study rooms at the library, made me feel like a bonafide vagabond. I finally understood why my dad would always boast about riding his bike to school every day, rain or shine, despite some probable embellishments that he added to this claim. In contemporary times, however, parents are a bit more guarded when it comes to their children; who knows what kind of lunatics their kids could run into behind Stop & Shop while searching for Pokémon (a bit passé but relevant nonetheless)?