there are no words to convey this feeling...completely relaxed in a bed in my old room, focusing on the candle flame marks, and the words i painted on my ceiling with i was 16. maybe its the smell of fresh baked oatmeal bread, or the familiar noise the bedroom door makes, slamming between its hinges, from the country breeze sucking the air out of the room from the open window.
i have to admit, my eyes are not dry as i say that i love this place. my real home. where i grew up.
3 comments:
it's so good to get back 'home' isn't it!?
There is no place like 'home', is there?!
Aww... very peaceful, eh? :)
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