at home

Stepping out into the early dark last night to pick a pair of bay leaves, I stood for a while looking up at Jupiter and Venus shining particularly brightly in the clear, cold night. Bats flickered under the willow. Walking back into the warmth of the kitchen, I felt a surge of contentment and sense of place that surprised me. We've lived here for nearly five years: longer than I've ever lived in a house, or a place. Being settled doesn't really settle me. Or so I thought. This odd little house that contains most of Joel's memories until now, with the garden that frustrates and delights in turn, has become a home that will be hard to leave. 

Comments

[Monica]

a house that holds early memories is harder to leave. on the other hand, so many new memories ahead.

a beautiful night.

[Tracy]

Home is such a powerful word. You've reminded me of the contentment that I feel every day when I return, entering through the heart, our kitchen.

[Denise | Chez Danisse]

I have the feeling you would find a way to make a beautiful home no matter where you were living.

[Anna]

I missed the bit where you're moving -- where are you going, Kate?

(And you've captured so much of your time there -- the specific places and things you did, but also the light, fleeting moments...tone. You have something of a record of this time, in words and pictures.)

[katrina]

oh, this resonates with me completely. i've moved so many times in the past years, but with a little one now i wonder how that movement would feel differently. (hi there. nice of you to comment on my blog.)

[little house]

Hello everyone. I realise it sounds as if we're moving imminently. We aren't. Though as someone who always has their boots by the door and their eyes on the horizon, it's something I think about often and we won't be here forever. What's taken me by surprise is realising how settled my heart is here. And I don't have a very settling type of heart :)

Monica, I agree that the lure of new memories is always a positive. Tracy, same here for the kitchen being at the heart. Denise, thank you. That means a lot. Anna, that's part of why I jot things here. Katrina, I agree. It's that weaving of memories of your child's life into the fabric of a place that changes feelings towards a home. And hello!

[Annie]

There is nothing quite like the feeling of home - the warmth that one feels after an absence of any length is really one of the most wonderful feelings in the world. And sadly not as all common as one would like to think.... I do like your snow drops - very pretty. Have a wonderful Friday, Annie x