I've always thought that home is where the terrain is. That the terrain you grow up with is what feels like home. I grew up with green rolling hills and dogwood trees. When we lived in Va.Beach, the terrain was very flat (like at a beach...). There were limited trees and absolutely no hills. I never got used to that. After our baby was born a homing time bomb went off. "Must return to homeland" is what my heart told me. I attribute it to wanting to see and live in the familiar while I navigated the world of the unfamiliar (motherhood). We did not move to my "home town" but moved to the same state and my eyes could rest on hills and flowering trees and my restless heart was immediately calmed.
As I've said, I'm from the South. Our accents are sweet like our tea. Heaven is a rocking chair on the front porch or on a screened in back porch. Hubby and I had recently built the most spectacular screened in back porch when we got the chance to move to WA. The porch was almost a reason for me to say "No Thanks", plan on sittin' on this porch forever. But, then we thought: Why not? We loved our house. But it was still just a house. Why not go see this place they call Seattle? You know, the place where Bobby Sherman and his brothers claimed the bluest skies you ever saw are. We went and I was in love. Not once did my homing pigeon heart ache for my childhood terrain.