Tracks of my heart

I beautiful post from a wordsmith whise blog I follow. Home……

Postcard from life lately

I’ve never really felt settled. Ever.

woman walking on road Photo by Ruslan Zzaebok on

I used to think of me as an explorer, until the day that faced with the choice of going somewhere on holiday my only desire was the arms of my parents, the familiar smells of my childhood, the sound of the river water rumbling and echoing in the valley, the wake up every morning to a birdsong melody… And in the midst of these memories I found HOME.

HOME is a place your heart call for, is a place you love dearly and passionately.

Is where people that glue your happiness are.

Is a place that overwhelms you with memories.

A place you could recognize by a sound or a smell any place, anywhere, anytime…

It is the smell of spring, and the colours of autumn.

The cold and rainy days, and the long and warm summer ones.

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