A sense of place...

Driving back from my doctor in Bellevue today, I had such a moment. It was nothing transitory or extreme, but instead just a sense of quiet belonging. Ah, Maple Valley..... H.O.M.E.

I love where I live. It only takes a small dose of 'urban' to make me crave 'Sub(urban)'.

Silly moments like yesterday at the "Do IT" center. Lily loves the little free bag of popcorn she gets when we go there. She and I were seed shopping. I am nervous about my tomato plants so we decided to cheat and by at least 4 tall ones on sale so we can guarantee tomatoes this year.

This sweetheart service gal walked us all the way outside to show us where they were and all three of us took in a breath of tomato plant together. Ahhhhhhh, now THAT smells like summer. We all closed our eyes and had flashes of lake and sun and fresh tomatoes.



A sense of being from a place is priceless. HOME. Home IS where your hearth is. Literally and idealistically. My ideal is now my real.



There is nothing like getting your big bird wings and taking a lap around the sun. I need to fly out of the nest pretty much everyday to be content. I am a flyer for sure. But now, I am also a nester. I adore the slightly lavender/lilac/baking bread/laundry soap/puppy dog/dusty book/muddy sneaker smell of my entry hall. LOVE. I'm HOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! or Hoooooooooooooooooooooooome!!!! Depending on who is there.



Its slight the way I glean a tidbit here and there of the sense of being in the right place. Its almost undetectable, but its also ever present. It comes from the light nuances of life here in Maple Valley.

Perhaps its the repetitions. We haven't lived in a place this long ever. 5 years this June. Five. That is long for us. Us, who have moved 9 times in 15 years.

I feel a sense of place for the first time in a long time. It is in the details like my favorite cranky Scottsman who owns the Black Diamond Bookstore, he is sort of a pill. I totally love him, because of that. Being a pill I understand. :)

There is 'place' in an arranged carpool where we all take turns with steaming football players fogging up the windows.

There is 'place' in finding flowers on your porch on the day you need it the most.

There is 'place' in the pleasure of changing season and expectation of the floral displays onset, or the growth of a familiar tree.

There is 'place' in a community performance with all the hushed and expectant parents careening for a look at their offspring in talent mode.

There is 'place' when you walk the neighborhood and have to wave and smile so much at everyone passing by that you feel as if you have walked with a myriad of friends.

There is 'place' when I look through my windows at night and see a neighborhood all tucked in and peaceful.

There is 'place' when I get a serious case of the giggles with my friends.

Ah, there is 'place'. Its a soothing balm to my wanderlusty soul.

Finally.