|Courtesy of Sophia’s Blog – Sophia|
!Home. The word is a conjurer, wielding pain, pleasure and profound exposure simultaneously. We all have one, some would argue more than one. Right now, this is being scribed from my physical birthplace. Yet, as familiar as this all is, there is another home out there of mine, also familiar, and in surprising ways, more-so.
I know these roads. On them, I began my journey – first on foot, then bicycle and eventually with automobile. The back streets come to me without Google or Yelp. I find the fastest route and the yummiest ice cream. The birds are familiar. I notice the absence of a distinctive song bird; we called it a “bob white”. I am told they seem to have gone from here. The woods are overgrown. I can’t find that…
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