Home.
Even the word is beautiful. The first soft consonant hums peacefully before being embraced and silenced by the reassuring softness of an ‘m’. In a sort of way it is onomatopoeic, the wholesome mono-syllabic utterance reflecting perfectly the warmth of the place we call ‘home’.
For me, home will always be buried within the aging streets of a Norfolk town; it’s the place that holds my family, friends, memories and ultimately, my heart.
I’m only in London, yet gazing out of the train window as tower blocks melt into green fields still warms my heart. Think of the people travelling across the country, across the world, just to reach their loved ones and imagine that increasing joy, as the foreign transforms into the familiar.
So for all of those people who are currently exploring some far flung corner of the world on their gap year, I hope that you have the time of your lives, but that you also come home safely.
Even if I’m not thousands of miles away from my family, trekking the Inca trail or building a school in Africa, I’m still hankering for home. So thank you Easter holidays for providing the excuse to nip back to Norfolk, eat too much chocolate and give my heart a bit of time to rest in the place where it belongs….
To The Table 
Hi Alice,What beautiful words you write and I just love the photo’s especialy the one with the path through the woods, I have just taken a 12 hour train ride down to see my cousins and my sister in NSW what a lovely trip a half empty train so lots of room and the senery through the country-side just magic, comu=ing back wasn’t so goo 36 hours from leaving my sister Mary’s home till arriving back here at the farm and through the night with a full train as NSW school holidays started that day.all well here with our own country side green and Lush with all the rain we have had, the cattle just love it , Well Happy Easter to you and the family. Take care and keep the ‘Insperations’ coming I love them’Luv Auntie Pauline xox
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