My AWA writing workshop on Tuesday mornings has provided an interesting space for reflection and free-form writing in response to prompts. A poem, followed by the question, "what brings you back to yourself?" found me writing this.   The village view of St. Fabien-sur-Mer across the bay draws me back.   This is what I wrote this morning: Being surrounded by green, the strong limbs of trees, covered in lichen, foraged by a woodpecker, moving methodically up and down its trunk - this brings me back to myself. The sound of a Carolina wren singing, an improbably loud voice for such a small bird.   A hummingbird appearing at the feeder, suddenly seen from the kitchen window, two squirrels chasing each other around the trunk of the slanted oak; these also bring me back to myself.  The rich smell of coffee and toasted bread, fruits with breakfast, a rosy-tinged morning solidify a start to being at home again. I am fortunate to being at home in two places, in the No