home country

As I’ve grown up in the world, home has become less of a place and more of the people that I love and am surrounded by. While I grew up in the same house all my life, since moving away for college, it doesn’t feel like my real home anymore. In it's place, I’ve created many homes over the years in various places, falling in love with different landscapes, picturesque views, and most of all people that I love more than anything in this world.

Several days ago I was flying, soaring above the world, observing human life as if from a dream. I couldn’t help but spend hours looking out the window, amazed at this alternate world of brilliant blue and white. Just as we began our descent into Salt Lake, we turned north, the clouds parted, and we flew over Utah Lake. What met my eyes were lush rolling green hills guarded by snow-tipped blue mountains--both a result of our wet and late spring. My lips parted in amazement, my hand pressed up against the window--willing the plane to push west so I could get a better view, my heart filled with more light than it has in months, and my mind felt at ease. This is my home country.

As many places as I will travel, as many people I will come to love and hold dear, as many replacement homes I will create like nests around my heart, this little place will always be where my feet feel most comfortable taking step after step, where my eyes love to rest. As much as I admire the limestone of Jerusalem or the trees of the East,  I will always call the mountains and valleys of dear Utah my home country.