There are certain things that remind me of home like sunflowers with their heavy sunshine heads nodding in the breeze. Or the tiny violas that tend to grow in tight areas, like th cracks in walks. The smell of freshly cut grass warming under the sun also reminds me of home.
Any time it’s super hot and we get a brief, but heavy rainfall and then the sun comes out and the steam rises off the pavement I am reminded of home. The same as the gentle chill that comes with an early autumn or a warm autumn that becomes an Indian Summer, no matter where I go, these things bring back home for me.
They tug at my heart in a way, not painfully so. Just a gentle tug and reminder of earlier times and memories of people no longer with me. In some ways it allows me to bring these people back in my life and in other ways it allows me to be transported back home when I’m out and about in this big world.
So I filled my vases full of sunflowers I picked up today, found a comfortable spot of sunshine and allowed myself to drift back to moments I’ve shared and cherished back home. Later on I will mess around with trying to get the flavors just right in my rub for the ribs and transport myself somewhat back home again, if only for a little while.
Who ever said you can’t go back wasn’t exactly right, because you can. If only through memories.