5.11.23 // Where is Home?

Where is home?
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They say home is a state of mind, and while I agree, I think for once, I have a physical home.
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Home is a little green house in Bend, Oregon.
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Home is the Tibetan prayer flags that hang on the front porch, dancing enthusiastically in the high desert breeze.
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Home is the gentle glow cast by the candles that are scattered across every surface of the house. A mixture of scents ranging from sweet thyme to savory sage, and of course, tobacco and vetiver.
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Home is a refrigerator with vegetables filling the drawers and a wide variety of sauces lining the door shelves like prospective actors at an audition hoping to get featured in my next one-bowl meal.
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Home is the sweet smell of coffee that is brewed slowly every morning with an insulated French press. The light-roasted beans are purchased from a local roastery and I grind them every morning.
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Home is the kiss of sunshine on my skin as I bask on the front porch of my dreams. Perhaps it was growing up in Tennessee, but I've always dreamed of a front porch like this. To sit and take in the world, to read, to eat, to drink iced tea, and to chat with the neighbors...
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Home is the sweet sound of friends laughing through my voice notes which echo through the house. The house anxiously awaiting to take in those friends in real life, to shelter them with love and comfort.
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Home is my Mom's name popping up on my phone with a message about her upcoming visit on the calendar. It is a simple moment of joy, with the promise of more to come.
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Home, for the first time in years, is a place. But not just a place, it is the person who now dwells in the walls of this little green house. Home is here and home is me.