Home is an unpaved road

“Mom do you know how many signs there are to your house that say the road narrows?” This from my daughter on a drive to our Idaho home. I did not know. So I started at one end where our gravel road meets the highway and drove to the other end where it loops back to the highway. I found more signs than I am sharing, and many tree houses, too, along our route. For me, home is a sense of place, a sense of the wild in nature and in my life. I have lived in mountains, on a beach, almost on a boat, and in cities.

My feeling of home brings sounds of people chatting, laughing, and crying together. I smell aromas from family cooking together in our kitchens, the compost in gardens, and rotting seaweed on a beach. The sense of home would make a challenging photo series. Some feelings can’t be photographed.

I see me in a place remote from city sirens and helicopters, a place where I encounter wildlife and rocks and rivers and can walk daily in peace. I want to get off the pavement and journey up a dirt road, ever narrowing, to a home where I can retreat from the fast pace of life. A place to renew myself and my family and set us running back to pavement when the time is right.

11 thoughts on “Home is an unpaved road”

    1. Thanks for your comments. I have 4 Olympus cameras and I’m probably going to upgrade my 4 megapixel DSLR soon. 2 of these cameras are film SLRs and I guess I should get rid of them, but I know them so well and love how they work.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. It adds minerals to the soil, a good fertilizer. I put it between rows to block weeds. It dries but absorbs water in rain and turns wet for a while. Then it’s slippery. Any salt leaches away. It breaks down into compost.

        Liked by 1 person

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