I have lived in MN all of my 38 years.  It is home.  Family is here.  Memories and history exist in every nook and cranny.  It is home.  For better or worse, there are reminders everywhere.

But, what truly defines home?  Is it physical reminders?  Is it by sight as you drive past landmarks and the memory of being 10-years old, spending the afternoon on the red-swing set, surfaces and a tinge of pain or regret appears; or the joys of careless summer afternoons with your dog at your side?

Is home much deeper, with tendrils extending along the spine and following each nerve; a world unto itself unfurling with spiritual awakening and awareness?

The dog alarm woke me up before the real one, with a slap on the forehead – must be time for breakfast.  Letting her outside, into the early morning of thick, damp, and heavy clouds, I briefly forgot I was here, and was greeted with days spent in Haines, AK.  I had no choice – the smell and the feel of the air on my skin, lifted me and dropped me back into the waters of Lynn Canal.

With something so deep and touching every part of my being, is that home?