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A certain region of California between the central coast and the southern coast is my true home. Lost in the oak woodlands, somewhere between a hill and a valley. Entirely too close to the ocean. There's a special little spot over there, a great little town that I've watched change and progress. That is my home. That is where I return. Everywhere else that I go does not feel the same. I am never complete when I am elsewhere. I am attempting to make my home anywhere, to feel that attachment to the town I currently live. But I suppose I am too firmly rooted. I know the plants there, the terrain. I know what to expect when I'm on my own on a trail - I know what's just around the bend and delight in sharing it with others. I don't know if I'll ever find another home. I'm fairly confident that I will never be able to afford to live in the place where I call home. It's a place to go for holidays, surrounded by family.
There are other places my husband and I have visited that felt comfortable and home-like. We would like to return to one of those places and make our home there. We're not sure which. We're still willing to explore and experience more of these places that immediately feel like home. A few we have come across: Missoula, Montana - Rosarito, Mexico - Moorea, French Polynesia - Cerbere, France - Carnia, Italy.
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"Sometimes I have to remember that things are brought to me for a reason, either for my own lessons or for the benefit of others." Cynthetiq
"violence is no more or less real than non-violence." roachboy
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