(no subject)
I understood today that I had moved back home.
It's always been troublesome for me to discern where home is, because I've been moving a lot, traveled even more, and my childhood has been spent in a lot of different countries for varying periods of time. It's true my parents still live now to where we moved in '93, but I've never really been able to pinpoint that flat as home before, or even the country in which I feel the most at ease with myself.
Today I was visiting my parents for supper, and to pick up the beautiful Remington they brought with them from a dusty nook at the countryside house, and it turned out mum had no crushed tomatoes. So I offered to go to the store, and skipping along, I went outside.
Spring has already arrived, sinewy grass covers any unpaved slope to be found, and if you strain your hearing you can hear the rip of leaves unfurling on the trees and bushes. We've had a lot of sun. Summer is almost here. Today was cloudy, but still mild, and suddenly it started raining. The scent of spring rain dampening the warm, dry pavement struck me like a baseball bat, and I almost teared up. That smell brought back not memories, but a sensation of being in the exactly right place, at the right time, and that for a brief moment all was well.
The city child had come back home, and she was glad to be there.
It's always been troublesome for me to discern where home is, because I've been moving a lot, traveled even more, and my childhood has been spent in a lot of different countries for varying periods of time. It's true my parents still live now to where we moved in '93, but I've never really been able to pinpoint that flat as home before, or even the country in which I feel the most at ease with myself.
Today I was visiting my parents for supper, and to pick up the beautiful Remington they brought with them from a dusty nook at the countryside house, and it turned out mum had no crushed tomatoes. So I offered to go to the store, and skipping along, I went outside.
Spring has already arrived, sinewy grass covers any unpaved slope to be found, and if you strain your hearing you can hear the rip of leaves unfurling on the trees and bushes. We've had a lot of sun. Summer is almost here. Today was cloudy, but still mild, and suddenly it started raining. The scent of spring rain dampening the warm, dry pavement struck me like a baseball bat, and I almost teared up. That smell brought back not memories, but a sensation of being in the exactly right place, at the right time, and that for a brief moment all was well.
The city child had come back home, and she was glad to be there.