Home is where what is?

„We are young, so lets set the world on fire, we can burn brighter, then the sun“ is playing on the radio, smell of fresh hay is in the air and the sun is shining hot and steady. Sweet countryside.

I am sitting under an oak tree, smoking lady cigarillos and wearing a flowery dress whilst reading Herrmann Hesses Poetry.

Okay, this is a complete lie.

I am sitting outside my parents house, looking through tons of photos I took the past year and wallow in memories (I do wear a flowery dress though).

It´s been a long time since I have been at my parents place and everytime I am here- wich is not exactly more then once a year- I feel a bit nostalgic. I can´t help but surrender to all those dreams and ideas I had when I was living here as a little girl. Sometimes I think I lost her somewhere down the road but everytime I am here, I remember that girl well, sitting in mum´s strawberry field, day dreaming, skimming through GEO traveller, thinking about travelling the world and breaking away from hillbilly life.

Breaking away. Breaking rules, hearts, cars. So I did. Started travelling young and always wanted to go again ever since.

Now I am back here, appreciating this place where the clock seems to move slower so much more, but still having ants in my pants and a heart on fire wishing to grab my backpack and go back on the road.

Some things truly just never change.

(Those photos are just cheap cellphone snaps. Sorry.)