It’s where the heart is. The dwelling which comforts our sleepiness and gives us respite from the harsh outside. It’s where we go to hide and recover, refuel and nurture our wild instinct, a sanctuary of delight where familiar sounds, smells and bodies give us warmth and power. It’s where mothers and fathers converse and make new laws. Where we run to when we’re cornered by the elements of humans and nature, where we recline and and sit remiss of the fortune we have that provides us with these walls, roofs, and beds in which we regroup until we embrace another day.
Though some days are like battles in between swaths of dilettantes and dimwits, home is where I am and it’s where I recognize myself the most. All the traveling in the world just makes home that much sweeter when finally seen again.