I wonder if it's possible to grow roots that anchor you to a place? Seeds that were sown long ago. Maybe your childhood tears that once fell into the soil. Maybe your beads of sweat that germinated and grew as you toiled over a project on the lawn. Roots that carry on getting longer. An invisible, unbreakable tether that will continue grow with you wherever you go but ensure that you are always connected. That you always belong there. Ties that you are unaware of until much later on.
At the farm the air always feels purer and fresher, more invigorating. The second after I close the heavy wooden farmhouse door behind me I take a deep breath to inhale the smell of home. I've often wondered if it's the washing powder my mother uses, maybe the smell of the antique furniture or the overalls, wellies and outdoor clothes in the boot room.
I've concluded it is unidentifiable. None of and yet all of these things combined. Unchanging as the years pass, comforting and unique. The morning chorus of the birds here sounds more melodic than anything I've ever heard on the radio. The familiar cold tiles beneath my bare feet as I cross the still kitchen in the early morning to put the kettle on and make breakfast.
It's both the past and the future, full of memories but also a place to conjure up dreams not yet realised. The people who inhabit it, their familiar routines and the way things are always done. The way they know you so well you don't need to explain or say anything at all if you don't feel like talking. Here it doesn't matter if there's a recession or even a war on. It's home and it's safe and I wish it could be like this forever.
It was so good to be back even for such a brief visit. I wish it wasn't so many, many unfathomable miles away but maybe that is what makes it all the sweeter when I return.
Now we are back in Australia, newly moved in to our new home, all ours this time. It's time to put down some roots for our own little family. But know it will never replace my other home, now I just have two of them.
Wife, mother of two small daughters, inhabitant of a small Australian surf town, ocean lover, farmers daughter, creator of things, home maker, figuring out (mostly happily) through a series of trial and errors how to live the good life and make each day count.