Vancouver – or home

It may be the trees and their smell after the rain, or the ocean and its salty power that cleanses my soul. Perhaps it is the fact that is the holding place of my family and the resting place of my mom, my grandma, my granny, my cats, and so on.. It could also be the fact that it is the solid foundation of my feminist awakening, or the rocky foundation of my questionable youth. It’s probably because the trees hold the secrets of my first kiss with a boy, while the city lights witnessed my first kiss with a girl. I am thinking it is most likely the river that runs from the mountains to my first house, that carried with it my dreams of adventure to far off lands. Maybe, just maybe it is not just one thing. Perhaps, and most likely, it is all that is my home.


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