My Hometown

As I sit snuggled in my duvet looking out of the window watching the rain thud against the glass, I find myself wishing that I was organised enough to have checked the weather this morning so that my washing wouldn’t be outside getting wet.

In three days time I will have been back in England for one month, and although my emotions are everywhere as I struggle to settle into a place that has remained the same, after so much of me has changed, I can’t help but smile as I gaze out at the grey skies.
Because as wet as England is, it holds a firm place in my heart.

This is the place where I learnt to walk,
The place where I learnt to talk.
The place where I grew into who I was, and that gave me the confidence to explore the unknown.
Yet at the moment the familiarity of my hometown feels foreign to me.
There isn’t a challenge in finding my way, because I can read the road signs.
There isn’t any confusion at mealtimes, because I know what the food is.
I felt like I was just drifting around missing the thrill of the unknown.

I’ve been feeling this way since I returned to England, however it was only yesterday that it dawned on me that to you, my hometown is unknown.
So I picked up my camera and took a stroll with the sole purpose of showing you all where I grew up.

But as I walked around taking pictures, I found myself looking at my hometown with new eyes.
Eyes that appreciated the beauty around me.
And whilst I don’t feel like my hometown will be my forever home.
It’s my home for now, and it’s dang beautiful.

So thank-you dear blogstalkers, for being here and helping me find a way to re-appreciate familiar surroundings.

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