Home

Home Red. Orange. Yellow. Leafy shadows flutter past my window, making lazy loops. Captured memories of catching butterflies in the sparkling emerald forests of spring, swimming in the azure waters of summer, climbing leafless trees in fall, and throwing fluffy snowballs in winter. I am sitting on my couch, reading an exciting book and drinking tea from my bee patterned cup. Memories rush in, a big wave. I remember eating cool, sweet ice cream on the porch, under the blazing sun. I remember screaming with my friends at a Christmas party that it was snowing. I remember the time I spent here, snuggled on the couch and reading just like today. I see, touch, and feel home in the smiling faces of my friends, in the dove-like music of the flute band at school, and in the shade of the towering maple trees. This blue house with two small palm trees is more than a house. It is a feeling, a sea of flowing memories. Moments and snippets of time are everywhere,woven in the peach and blue carpet, trapped in the watercolor artwork hanging on the wall, absorbed into the very walls of this home. My home has been here all my life, a place of shelter, warmth, and protection. Though I might not realize it, home is part of me. Home greets me with warm smiles. Home grows old with me. Home is a paradise in a stormy black sea. Home is a burrow for a scared rabbit. Home is there for me through all my hard times and good times. Home is where I can be myself, and enjoy everything. This is my home. A place of gathering, reunion and friendship. A place of memories, joy,hurt, sorrow, and happiness. Home is a piece of my life.