Last week while doing groceries, M and I bumped into a friend from up North who now lives down here. We hadn't seen each other in a while and it was good to catch up (as much as you're at to catch up while unloading groceries onto the till [sp?] at Superstore, which is always VERY busy).
This friend asked me how I liked living back down here and I fear I was perhaps too enthusiastic (gushing, almost jumping up and down) and felt I had to tone it down with a qualifying, "Well, it's good to be by family again."
But don't get me wrong. M and I don't regret moving and living up North. We loved it up there. We grew as individuals, as a couple and as a family. Annie's birth certificate will always read Smithers, BC and we will always be reminded of that. We enjoyed the scenery and the small-town life. We left behind friends and family that we miss on a daily basis. If they all moved down here, life would practically be perfect, but that's not the way things work out, unfortunately.
But moving back here felt like moving back home. I think that principle applies to people all over the world who identify with where they were born or where they grew up or if they become attach to the geography or the way of life. There are people from up North who belong up North; they love it, they relish it and wouldn't live any other way. Some people feel the same way about New York or Newfoundland or Vancouver or Saskatoon. And some free-spirited souls feel no attachment whatsoever and are able to feel at home wherever they put their feet.
But on a day like today, after a few days of cold and rain (it felt more like a Fall day than a Spring day this past Easter weekend), when the sun is shining gloriously and trees are showing off those pink, yellow or white blossoms and the fresh scent of the earth being renewed is wafting in the breeze... then really, there is nowhere else I want to be...