Home is the wild Atlantic ocean and forests of Nova Scotia. It’s the busy streets and beautiful buildings of Ottawa. It’s a four bedroom red brick house in a small town called Russell. Home is the quaint house and gorgeous yard of my grandma and grandpa’s. The tiny little house on main street in Radville that I first called my own. It’s a quarter of land with the simple title of SW35-4-18-W2. Home to me is sunshine, blue skies, greenness, pretty flowers, and gravel roads. A bookcase full of my favorites and words that speak to me. It’s the eternal warmth I feel in both of my sisters arms. It’s my dad’s laugh. The glimmer in my kids’ eyes. Home is wherever I have felt alive. 


One thought on “Home 

  1. Chris, your writing is awesome… the descriptions and the feelings you provoke along with the warmth for your subjects shines through with such clarity. I love this piece and I love you! .


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