My soul place

I’m sitting in my parents’ house in Durango, Colorado listening to and breathing in the most dramatic–and as my friend M would say–crackling rain storm. The sky has been working up to this all day, with breezy gusts and grumbles. As I was walking through the relaxed, green neighborhoods here, looking out over the rocky, forested ridges and plateaus of the river valley, the first heavy drops began to fall and I thought, This is my soul place. There is just *something* about the way my skin feels the air here and the smell of dry, desert air mixed with the sweetness of water that means h-o-m-e.

What means home to you?

3 thoughts on “My soul place

  1. As cliche as it sounds, I can feel at home pretty much anywhere, so long as I have my family next to me. I also love the town where I went to college. When we go back, it always feels like going home. I really love it there.

  2. I love the town where I went to college. It always feels like going home when we visit! I think I love it so much because I have wonderful memories from my time there and always have fun when we visit…it just makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside.

  3. Sigh. I so know what you mean. I feel that way in Ohio where I grew up, and in Vermont where I first put down roots of my own choosing. The air is just DIFFERENT. Winter, summer, the smell…it’s like gravity pulling me. Drink it up, and then come back to Berkeley and play with me!

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