homesweethome2024

[homesweethome2024]

Music to Enjoy as You Scroll

[homesweethome2024]

About My Blog

Hey! Welcome to Places I Go Where I Feel Most at Home! This blog is a collection of reflections on the places that have shaped who I am. These are the places I return to many times, and the ones I miss when I'm away. I share personal stories on how each of these locations carries its own energy and memories, that I am reminded of upon my arrival. I hope you enjoy reading about these places as much as I enjoy going back to them.

[homesweethome2024]

Another Home, My Original Home.

The plane descended through a blanket of shimmering clouds as the sun was rising, and Montreal, a city dusted in sparkles, came into view. I felt a warmth settle inside my chest. It was not just the city that made me feel this, but it’s the countless memories I hold, and what waited for me there. My parents, my puppy, my friends, everyone. 

(photo taken by me)

As I stepped outside of the airport in my hometown, I braced myself for the brisk winter air that hit me right away. Although, it wasn't ordinary air. It shimmered, like it carried whispers of stories that only Montreal knew. Vancouver, where I moved away for school, has its own beauty, with its gorgeous mountains and tons of greenery. However, something about Montreal in the winter- the sheet of snow with the snowflake that refused to melt, and all of the Montreal Canadiens hockey talk- felt really comforting.

When I got to the parking lot, I saw my mom first, waving excitedly. My grandpa stood beside her, smiling ear to ear. They pulled me into a tight hug and I immediately felt like I was home. My mom's perfume scented coat and my grandpa’s classic body soap smell, I was transported back to my childhood.

As soon as we pulled into the driveway, I saw my puppy’s ears perk up and I heard his paws scratching at the window.

I didn’t even have time to open the door before he launched himself at me, running in circles, wagging his tail. “Denver!!!!” I screamed and crouched down to pet him. He licked my face as if he knew I was gone and he asked me “Where were you? I missed you!” I could hear him talking to me. 

I walked inside and immediately smelled my moms cooking. She was making my favourite banana bread, and the smell wrapped me like a hug. I gave my brother a hug, he obviously had to wait until after I greeted the dog at the door. I was so happy to be back home.

Later that evening, I met up with some friends at our favourite pie place, powered by an AI named Lydia that makes pie based on your mood.

"Back for more nostalgia pie?" Lydia asked us.

We shared stories, cracked inside jokes, as if no time had passed. The pie was placed on the table and each piece showed a video memory I shared with my friends. These were the people that knew me best, who could literally read my mind and finish my sentences. They understood me in ways that didn’t even make sense to me.

By the time I returned to my house, Denver was waiting for me in the window again. He greeted me and said "I missed you!"

(photo taken by me, can you spot him?)

I went to sit with him on the couch, and he immediately cuddled in. I missed these moments so much when I’m away at school. The smell, the warmth, the love. It made me realize that even though I lived across the country, this place would always be my home.

[homesweethome2024]

Another One of My Homes

I've been coming to my grandparents’ home by the gorgeous blue ocean since I was a baby, but at 20 years old, this visit felt just as comforting as it had my whole life. The crisp air hit my face the moment I stepped off the plane, filling my body with a sense of comfort and intense nostalgia.

As I made my way out of the airport and to the car, I saw my grandparents waiting for me, with their warm smiles and summer clothing on. The whole scene made me experience a Deja-vu, I hadn’t been here in a whole year, but the whole environment made me feel at home.

“Welcome back!” my grandpa said, giving me a tight hug.

The drive to the house contained palm trees, sand coloured houses, and of course, the blue ocean in the distance. As we pulled into the driveway, I was hit with a wave of happiness and I smiled. The house was the exact same as the last time I was here, with the salty breeze from the ocean flowing through the open windows. 

After dinner, I walked all the way down to the sandy beach. The sand cooled and shifted around my feet, as if it knew I was finally back. As the sun finished setting and the ocean stretched out in front of me, I watched the waves roll in and eventually the moonlight began shimmering on the surface. I picked up a seashell and ran my fingers over the edges. For a moment, I heard echoes of all the times I played in this sand and surfed these waves. I started seeing memories of all the Christmases I’ve spent here. Building sand castles, collecting rocks and seashells, and swimming with my brother. It seemed like that was a whole lifetime ago, yet the memories felt so fresh, like I never left.

The next morning, my Grandma and I went on our small boat, just like we used to. The engine hummed as the waves crashed against the sides of the boat. With each crashing wave, I saw an old memory I once experienced in the ocean. We sat in silence surrounded by the ocean that had surrounded me for every Christmas I remember. 

That evening, we sat on the porch, watching the sunset touch the top of the ocean, painting the sky shades of pink and orange. Grandma sipped her tea, and Grandpa made his usual dad jokes that we all laughed at. The salted air was warm, the sound of the waves were never ending, and I felt so much peace. 

(photo taken by me)

I had grown and changed in many ways, but this place, the house, the beach, and the people, would always be a part of me. I realized then that no matter where I was, or how far I traveled, spending time with my grandparents in Florida is where I felt most at home.

[homesweethome2024]

Here's another hint! Story time coming soon.

There's something about the duality in this photo that really gets me thinking

[homesweethome2024]

Can you guys guess where I was this Christmas based on this video? Comment below!!!

RESTING THE SOUL 🌊🐠🐳🐬🦭🐡🦐🦞🦀🦑🐙🪼🪸🦂🦈🐚

[homesweethome2024]

seems like we share the same thoughts about a night by the firepit

A night I’ll never forget ✨🫶🏻🔥

[homesweethome2024]

The Moment I Stepped off the Bus

The first thing I noticed when I stepped off the bus into the trees was the smell. It wasn’t just the pine needles getting crushed underfoot. It was the scent of trees calling me, mixed with the smell of wood, and something else… It had been over a year since I was back, but the scents pulled me back in like no time had passed at all. It was like the forest itself had memories, and I was part of them. 

(photo taken by me, at camp)

My favourite sleep away camp, my summer home for a decade, looked the exact same. The wooden cabins leaned slightly over the mountains and the docks were stretched long and sturdy into the lake's glistening surface. The fire pit by the beach tugged on my heartstrings, reminding me of all the memories long gone but not forgotten.

I dropped my bag on the crushed pine needles and stood still, letting the wind wrap around me. I carried a weird mix of nostalgia and an ache I hadn’t realized I still carried with me.

The lake had a glisten that called to me. I slipped my shoes off, walked across the dock, and dangled my feet into the ice cold water. The ripples danced around my feet, like they recognized me. All of my memories by the lake flashed before my eyes- the shock of the cold of the first plunge, the laughter echoing off the surface, and peaceful moments when I floated on my back staring at the sky.

(photo taken by me)

I sat in silence for a few moments looking out at the lake, the feeling that only camp friends would understand. The faint hum of a guitar hit my ear. I knew exactly what song they were playing, I didn’t even need to hear any of the chords to feel the words tug at my chest. A camp song.

Later, as the sun hit the lake and painted it in gold and pink, I found myself sitting by the fire with my campers. We sang like the old days, voices humming together, most off key but it didn’t matter. The melodies surrounded me like a rope of memories. When the last note came, the fire cracked at the perfect second, to seal the memory. I looked up at the stars, they always looked brighter here at camp.

Camp was not just a place I had been, it was a piece of me. It shaped every part of me. Every trail I walked and every song I sang had shaped me into who I am in ways I was only now beginning to understand.

That night, I lay in my old bunk, listening to my campers snoring, the distant call of an animal, and chirping crickets. This was not just a visit to camp, this was a reunion with the person I used to be, and maybe deep down, still was.

Camp was not just a summer activity, a building, or a place, it was home. I looked out the window to see the stars waving at me. Between the pine trees, the ripples of the lake, and the strum of a guitar, I was back home.

[homesweethome2024]

This reminds me so much of camp...

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