The places left behind

We left the place we called home five and a half years ago to start a new life on a new continent. We left behind the familiar and walked towards the unknown. Familiar places that brought comfort exchanged for fond memories and photographs.

We left with only one intention — to grow towards the possibilities of the adventure. We weren’t running away. We weren’t angry. I think this helped us to get settled and move forward, move on, put down roots.

The places we left behind are now frozen in time. Captured in the amber of memories and the digital sediments of our lives; accumulating somewhere in the cloud.

Places give our lives context but can only take on meaning if we give it meaning; can only be home if we call it home.

The places we left behind now have no memory of us. Footprints long faded, our voices long ago carried away on the Southeaster.

I find comfort in the thought of the non-permanent nature of it all.