Under the trees this weekend.  Big trees, tall trees, covered with moss at the bottom so their limps hung out like zombies.  Their tops touching the sky, the ground soft with their tiny tender droppings.  The sound of the rushing river washes over the gentle forest, a constant meditative ohhmmmm.  Reminding me that this IS my home.

I weep when I leave the trees.  These are my soul mates.  This is my roots, my home.  I never want to leave.  I can’t remember why I need to go back.  I sob as I decamp, feeling so lonely as a small human.

But they gave me a hopeful reminder as I looked up at the firry sky above me.  Their soft whisper gave me hope and strength: This IS your home.  You are just visiting the city.  Have a nice visit and we’ll see you soon.

Now I can relax as I rush to dress and fight traffic, that I’m just visiting here.  It brings gratitude into my day and I live in my home, the oooohhhmmm, with every breath.