What I would photograph to represent my hometown:

I would take my camera out to the street where I grew up. It's what you would imagine; an all-American neighborhood. Standing from my driveway you can look down the cul-de-sac and see how all the homes haven't changed since the 15 years I've known this street. Sure maybe the Smiths got new shutters, or the Jacobson's cemented their driveway. But it still feels exactly how I remember it. Giant oak trees line the street, and in the fall, the red and golden leaves look like a picture from a postcard. There's the handprints me and my sister put in the cement while it was drying, you can see where we wrote our names; it takes you back to that moment thirteen years ago. From here you can see the lake and the woods behind my neighbor's house. It was where we used to build forts, climb trees, and be complete tomboys. As you approach my front door, you can see it there; the door mat that says "Home sweet Home."