It was the blue of the sky that suddenly grabbed my attention. Then it was the various shades of green in the trees around me. I was taking a walk in my neighborhood Wednesday afternoon when the beauty around me hit me so hard that it almost hurt my heart to feel it all.
For this moment in time, I couldn’t imagine being in any place on earth more beautiful. I couldn’t imagine anything more perfect than the stunning colors and shades and smells of my surroundings. It wasn’t just beauty, though. It was an emotional feeling that welled up inside.
It was about being in the place called home.
I don’t understand nationalism or patriotism anymore. George Bernard Shaw said, “Patriotism is, fundamentally, a conviction that a particular country is the best in the world because you were born in it….” I don’t have any particular argument at the moment with those who feel differently. I’m just saying that I’ve come to a point in life when I don’t feel connected to a country or a government. But I understand what it means to love the land you call home.

Going through old relics tells me I’m still same person I used to be
Florida requires drivers to hand over personal info — which it then sells
Love & Hope — Episode 9:
If you repress feelings long enough, depression attacks without warning
I’ve now launched a new podcast about search for love and family
A year later, my father’s death looms large, but I have no regrets
Why can we sabotage ourselves?
Few things satisfy like giving thoughtful gifts to those we love
Few things scare humans like the prospect of living, dying alone