I grew up 2 min. up the road. I marched onto the bridge during Memorial Day parades, my brother and I played on the rocks by the shore while my mom sat in the car watching us. The village across the bridge is filled with quaint shops: books and jewelry, housewares and antiques. I spent many hours as a kid staring in store fronts, dreaming of adulthood and all of the treasures I would fill my home with.
It's the sort of place you can go anytime and feel at home. It wraps you up like a blanket and takes all of your cares away. My safe harbor.