George says home is where ever we are together. It’s more than an address with a mortgage or lease in your name. My Road Trip consumed the month of April. The Nest is a part of our home where the beach is the front yard. I flew from Indian Rocks Beach to San Diego, met my son Barrett and Violet. We drove to Solana Beach. Barrett and Marlene’s home is a stones throw from the Pacific and felt just as comfortable, perhaps more so given the contentious nature of the Nest’s anti-neighborhood. I left Missouri on a dreary cold rainy day when only a few hearty leaves on the willow were sprouting and came home to lush green grass and lilacs blooming with warm summer winds and a glaring sunshine. Each venue in it’s own way is part of what I know as home. Home is where I am mindful of my center and secure with whoever enters invited though the door – or hatch – Ex Libris is my home on the water that sails with the wind. When any of these structural domains are blessed with the love of family and friends my soul is filled with gratitude because I have a home from which to go and to return.
I feel a bit like the Hobbit. My journey ended where it began. I wandered a bit but was never lost. It reminded me of a passage in the book, “Where did you go to, if I may ask?’ said Thorin to Gandalf as they rode along. “To look ahead,’ said he. And what brought you back in the nick of time?’ “Looking behind,’ said he.”
I wish everyone the freedom to go on walkabouts whether near or far from your home and the courage to go off on adventures. “May the wind under your wings bear you where the sun sails and the moon walks.” JRR Tolkien