Feeling at home
I'm exploring the idea of "being at home" in the coming year of doing daily posts. It's interesting.
I definitely feel like I'm at home here in Asheville. There are mountains, forests, and distant vistas to enjoy, just walking over the bridge from Montford to downtown. And our setting is fortunate, looking out to a wonderful forest that's slowly being tweeked towards a native woodland. And we've surrounded our house with additional native plantings that provide sense of place and welcome birds, bees, and other pollinators, etc. (The woodchucks need to stay in the ravine forest as do the bears.)
Our garden, even if a bit overgrown, welcomed us home again. But, as I look at my city with fresh eyes, the rough spots are evident, too, as are the opportunities for new experiences and doing something different.
Re-connecting with friends, one of them asked this afternoon how my recent experiences in Germany might inform how tourists experience Asheville, as we're definitely a tourist town.
Well, I said, our HomeExchange partner from Freiburg enjoyed Asheville (more than he expected that he would, he wrote, and he totally loved the music scene here). He was sorry to leave a couple of days early because of Florence. I'm sure he wasn't impressed by the numerous potholes on Chestnut St. -- we think the City will be finally repaving it in the next couple of weeks after months of delay (and that street only got bumped up in the long list because of neighborhood complaints, finally). It's truly embarrassing, not to mention annoying as I bump through the missing asphalt.
Another friend welcomed me back via email, but was mindful of my posts about home. We can be at home many places in the world, if circumstances are right.
There are other places in the world to love.
So when my friend asked this afternoon about whether Quebec had met our expectations, I answered yes (with goosebumps). It was wonderful to be in our small historic house adjacent to an incredible national park on the St. Lawrence River.
Another place of the spirit.
I definitely feel like I'm at home here in Asheville. There are mountains, forests, and distant vistas to enjoy, just walking over the bridge from Montford to downtown. And our setting is fortunate, looking out to a wonderful forest that's slowly being tweeked towards a native woodland. And we've surrounded our house with additional native plantings that provide sense of place and welcome birds, bees, and other pollinators, etc. (The woodchucks need to stay in the ravine forest as do the bears.)
Our garden, even if a bit overgrown, welcomed us home again. But, as I look at my city with fresh eyes, the rough spots are evident, too, as are the opportunities for new experiences and doing something different.
 |
| the pocket meadow looking ready for editing |
Re-connecting with friends, one of them asked this afternoon how my recent experiences in Germany might inform how tourists experience Asheville, as we're definitely a tourist town.
Well, I said, our HomeExchange partner from Freiburg enjoyed Asheville (more than he expected that he would, he wrote, and he totally loved the music scene here). He was sorry to leave a couple of days early because of Florence. I'm sure he wasn't impressed by the numerous potholes on Chestnut St. -- we think the City will be finally repaving it in the next couple of weeks after months of delay (and that street only got bumped up in the long list because of neighborhood complaints, finally). It's truly embarrassing, not to mention annoying as I bump through the missing asphalt.
Another friend welcomed me back via email, but was mindful of my posts about home. We can be at home many places in the world, if circumstances are right.
There are other places in the world to love.
 |
| Havre de Bic, Parc National du Bic |
Another place of the spirit.
Comments
Post a Comment