What does it mean to live somewhere? We all live somewhere in the world, but what connects us to that somewhere? And when does somewhere transition to home? And when does home transition to belonging? And when does belonging become a strong emotional bond that's inexplicable but nevertheless has a very strong pull?
The world is our oyster as the saying goes, although I'm not sure what shellfish have to do with our life decisions. However, we can live anywhere in the world, so why did we choose this particular country, this state, this suburb, this street, this house or this oyster. When and how did we decide this somewhere was home?
A pair of Welcome Swallows decided their somewhere is at the nursery, having made their journey back from Queensland. They weigh in at 9-20 gm and fly without pilot training, flight instruments, in-flight service, or any protection from the elements. This is indeed a miracle, but how did they decide, out of all the places in the world, my nursery is home? After all, they have a passport to the world, no bookings required, no lengthy check-ins, no security checks, no quarantine, they are the plane flight, ready to go anywhere they choose.
As soon as Welcome Swallow pairs return from their Queensland trip, they make renovations to their nest, producing robust mud shapes with just their beaks, any potter would be proud to display. After making renovations, they make a feather doona to keep their eggs cosy, hatch their triplets, collect food for their hungry family, keep them safe, clean their house, while never complaining of tiredness, overwhelm or frustration with the never ending demands of parenthood.
I don't hear them yelling at their kids, "Stop fighting." "Don't speak to me like that." "Say thank you," or squabble with their spouse over division of labour. They appear to have this whole parenting thing all sorted, and raise three gorgeous children growing like a souffle, in a nest that appears to be in desperate need of several new bedrooms.
I will watch the young ones learn to fly, and when winter approaches they will leave again. I will wish them well on their journey and look forward to welcoming them back in spring to their somewhere they call home.
The world is our oyster as the saying goes, although I'm not sure what shellfish have to do with our life decisions. However, we can live anywhere in the world, so why did we choose this particular country, this state, this suburb, this street, this house or this oyster. When and how did we decide this somewhere was home?
A pair of Welcome Swallows decided their somewhere is at the nursery, having made their journey back from Queensland. They weigh in at 9-20 gm and fly without pilot training, flight instruments, in-flight service, or any protection from the elements. This is indeed a miracle, but how did they decide, out of all the places in the world, my nursery is home? After all, they have a passport to the world, no bookings required, no lengthy check-ins, no security checks, no quarantine, they are the plane flight, ready to go anywhere they choose.
As soon as Welcome Swallow pairs return from their Queensland trip, they make renovations to their nest, producing robust mud shapes with just their beaks, any potter would be proud to display. After making renovations, they make a feather doona to keep their eggs cosy, hatch their triplets, collect food for their hungry family, keep them safe, clean their house, while never complaining of tiredness, overwhelm or frustration with the never ending demands of parenthood.
I don't hear them yelling at their kids, "Stop fighting." "Don't speak to me like that." "Say thank you," or squabble with their spouse over division of labour. They appear to have this whole parenting thing all sorted, and raise three gorgeous children growing like a souffle, in a nest that appears to be in desperate need of several new bedrooms.
I will watch the young ones learn to fly, and when winter approaches they will leave again. I will wish them well on their journey and look forward to welcoming them back in spring to their somewhere they call home.
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