blue jay feather in plant
photo by Sylvia

Instead of the river, there are now trees. Instead of big, tall windows that let in 14 hours of summer sun, there are smaller, shaded windows and a cooler, darker, sweeter space, sprinkled with dapled spots of bright light. How does “place” define us? Interesting question. I look for deer now, not the heron, I look for the skunk at night. I collect blue jay feathers and listen for the cries of the hawks. I pull the pup from the poison ivy and she looks at me as if to say, “when are we going home?” and I say, “little girl, we are home”.

10 thoughts on “Home”

  1. Oh how lovely. Appreciation for every space. I have a sign in my home that says the thing I love most about my home is who I share it with. Sounds like you moved. Enjoy. ❤️


  2. We did, and it’s been a bit rough around the edges. But all passes.
    It does seem like sometimes a sense of “place” is surprisingly not about the physical space.


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