My home:

What do I mean when I say: when can we go home? After a long day at the park. To me, I mean to go somewhere I know I belong, somewhere I am protected, and somewhere I am needed. Somewhere with my family, and my friends. To a warrior, home is somewhere where they need no armor, no shield, no sword, and no enemies. Somewhere with just comfort, and peace. Home is like the battleground of memories, each fighting to have a place in your memory. To an animal, home is more than just a territory. It is something worth defending, some place worth more than even your own feathers, scales, skin, or fur to keep. It is the instinct to return back to home after leaving it. To a beaver, it’s house is its woody dam, but it's home is all the memories it’s made in that dam, all the fun, and sad moments it spent in its river bank and in its forest. To a bear, home is more than the rocky cave that it grew up in, the cave it celebrated in, and the cave that it hibernated in. It’s the place where it will always return to after a long day of hunting. A human might think a bird’s home is its nest, but the bird knows it’s home is all the places it has migrated to, all the places it has flown over. Now, with its wings spread out, and its arsenal of feathers revealed, the bird lifts off to fly and to find itself a new home. Somebody could give you a house, but it is up to you to take the time to make it into your own home. By Oceana