Red, white and blue,
What does it mean to you?
Surely you're proud
Shout it aloud.
Britons awake!
What I love about coming back from holidays is coming back to England. After a long and winding scenic journey, I collapsed into bed, exhausted, as the birds sang their morning tunes outside my open window. Awoken mid-afternoon to the constant pitter-pattering of rain, it felt good to be in the country that I call home.
I love England.
Oh, don't get me wrong, I enjoy going away for a few days or weeks - to have the opportunity to experience new cultures, to return to favourite places, visit familiar faces in far-off lands. But it's fantastic to come back, appreciate the simple things. Green! Trees! Hills! Valleys! Temperate Temperatures! Dips and blips and twists and turns! I love the variation in landscape, routes, architecture, history. I love the British humour; the British customs; the British manner. I love knowing where I am; where to go; what to do.
Home is where the heart is.
The sense of belonging is what it comes down to. Indeed, I feel more comfortable knowing I am a resident of the country rather than a transient tourist. Even just visiting family or friends across the waves means fitting in better, as it's easier to adopt the association with the community rather than feeling like a faceless alien in a foreign place. Since I've got older, I've noticed it more, as when I was younger it didn't bother me so - but then I never had a say in where I'd go.
Travelling the world doesn't appeal to me all that much, particulary. There's no latent desire locked up inside my soul to see all there is to see. Of course, there are so many amazing destinations, so much I've enjoyed experiencing and still a fair few hotspots on my hitlist. But I'm glad to be settled in the UK for the time being - it's good to be home!
Today has taught me: Almost half of the residents of Toronto were born outside of Canada (...yet many immigrants will consider it their home.)
On the jukebox: Chantal Kreviazuk ~ Leaving On A Jet Plane
Today has taught me: Almost half of the residents of Toronto were born outside of Canada (...yet many immigrants will consider it their home.)
On the jukebox: Chantal Kreviazuk ~ Leaving On A Jet Plane
Home is good :-) The wave of belonging and familiarity makes you appreciate just how difficult it must be to be an immigrant/ emigrant, especially if it isn't through choice.
ReplyDeleteHome for me is England. (Just about) always has been, probably always will be! But at the same time I do like travelling and, ooo, Canada!
I love England. More specifically, I love the area of England I call home (which, incidentally, is not where I live). I love the countryside, I love being woken up by the dawn chorus, I love the sound and feel of the rain, I love knowing the names of the plants and trees that grow around me, the buildings, the history, the customs. I want to travel, maybe live abroad for years at a time, but I know I will always come home and settle here eventually. You've captured my thoughts about home quite perfectly :)
ReplyDeleteJenny
I just wrote a rather long and rambling essay at school on 'There's No Place Like Home'. : )
ReplyDeleteOh so Dorothy.
Talk about epic picture showoff. Lovely title banner Flixature :o)
ReplyDeleteWelcome back xx