A place can be many different things to many different people. An objectively beautiful place may be a place of sadness or regret for some. A seemingly ugly, unattractive place may inspire a feeling of joy. Objectively, my suburb is neither. It’s not beautiful or ugly.

My experience is narrowed by the fact that the majority of my time is spent in a small, older pocket of the suburb. While it goes unsaid, busy Stud Road is the invisible dividing line between the nicer side and the more average one and crossing over to the nicer side seems like a bridge too far. But the few times I’ve travelled across, it’s definitely nicer. Newer houses, wider roads. Trendy eateries. My side is more pedestrian, a little older, ordinary.

I’ve been in Scoresby for over a decade. Like many who have since moved to the area, it provided an opportunity for a reasonably sized house, on a reasonably sized piece of land. It’s not the more desirable Wantirna South over the border. It’s not the Rowville down the road with its beautiful modern houses in parkland settings. But it has its advantages. It’s more affordable. And while public transport is poor, it’s not as poor as Rowville where the promised rail line continues to languish and likely will forever more (after all, if an idea first mooted in 1969 hasn’t happened in 2026, it’s probably never going to happen).

Looking at Scoresby realistically, I doubt it will ever make any sort of top-10 list of Melbourne suburbs. But it won’t be in the bottom 10 either. I suspect it’s actually like the majority of suburbs in Melbourne. Unremarkable, but fine. And for most people, including me, fine is enough.

Scoresby does have some claims to fame. For an area that seems not particularly historic, it houses the oldest church in the area, a lovely little white building built in the 1870s surrounded by the Scoresby Village shopping area with its mix of Asian groceries, bakeries, banh mi cafes and Sri Lankan restaurants. Scoresby was, prior to modern development, the Brussels sprouts capital, covered by farms providing the unfairly maligned vegetable to the city.

For many years, Caribbean Gardens was a big attraction. What was once a manufacturing hub for boats had been converted in the 1960s into a market and is fondly remembered as a faded but wonderful place with retro amusement rides, a world-renowned selection of pirated DVDs or under the counter cigarettes if one were so inclined (as I once was). In 2020 the market closed, and this open space by the lake is now an occasional festival and convention venue – nice to have in my local area, although I’m sure that the scant public transport options leave visitors less than impressed. Scoresby still hosts the nearby Caribbean Rollerama skate rink, a wonderful throwback to a time of neon and supposed innocence.

In my decade here, the suburb has changed significantly. Older homes are being demolished, to be replaced by large modern McMansions or in many cases, multi-unit dwellings. There’s greater diversity; many attracted by living in a nice suburb that seems to be priced within their reach. There are houses lit up for Christmas, for Diwali and Chinese New Year. It’s a microcosm of modern Melbourne. It’s comforting to see the local residents feeling safe enough to celebrate their cultures despite the divisive times we live in. The Scoresby of 2026 is a place of kind neighbours, something I’ve observed on numerous occasions including when, after a car accident on my quiet residential street, someone from almost every single house nearby came outside to help. Not to stare, but to check that the driver and everyone else was OK.

In 2019, we adopted our Labrador Rani. She’s a maniac, a beautiful one, and my boys, my wife, and I spend hours with her, walking the local streets. She’s not my sidekick; I’m hers. All Labradors are quirky, and they’re known for their eccentricities. But Rani is unique. She doesn’t have one or two of the eccentricities that Labs are known for. She has all of them and some additional ones too. And on top of that, she behaves like a cartoon character. She’ll stop for strangers on our daily walk, particularly those who have no interest in dogs and won’t move until they at least give her a smile. She’ll only travel in a clockwise direction in some streets, but after leaving her mark, will only turn back in an anticlockwise direction. She has a strange habit of finding worms and crushing them with her back, with her legs in the air. She enjoys doing her business at T-intersections where she can be sure of an audience.

Seeing Scoresby through her eyes, I see an unremarkable place transformed into a place of wonder. A place of interesting smells, numerous trees and bushes to burrow under. A place where Rani has made friends with people everywhere, some who love dogs, some who just tolerate them. But even those non-dog people know Rani. Some even ask about her if they see me on the streets without her by my side. To Rani, Scoresby is Benedikt Reserve where she can run to her heart’s content (on a leash of course – she’s unpredictable). It’s Scoresby Secondary College where she decided to abruptly sprint in chase of an imaginary animal leading to me falling, sliding along the ground, bruising my ribs and needing numerous stitches on my leg. It’s the kind neighbours down the road, always quick to smile or at least wave when we walk by. It’s the lovely, retired couple with their own Labrador who treat Rani like their own. It’s the young family with the two sweet little girls who always must pat Rani when we’re walking by.

So even though I sometimes see Scoresby as just a nice place to live, seeing it through my kindred spirit and sidekick’s eyes makes me think differently. Scoresby is also a place of wonder, warmth, and kindness. For me, her sidekick, that means that there’s no other place called home for me either.

Amitava Das is a freelance writer who works in the not-for-profit sector.