A Place of Happiness

Home is a place where I can feel welcomed and joyful. My dogs are one of the main sources of that excitement. When I come home from a long day of school my two dogs, one big and one small, jump and lick me until I can't even breathe. The soft, smelly fur brushes against me as I sleep on my doughy couch. The motive to walk or throw the ball keeps me going if I am bored on a cold, long winter day. Home is a place where you can make happy memories. My memories are road trips, where you can explore new places and experience new things. Or Disneyland, where you won't forget the amazing rides and attractions. One of my favorite memories is getting one of my dogs at an old farm. The joy that was bursting out of my stomach was a feeling I couldn’t comprehend. Home is a place that needs food. The explosive and extraordinary tastes that fill my stomach to the very brim every single supper. The new, flavourful experiments my dad tries tingles and tangles my nose every time I walk into the kitchen. I savour the hallucination of masterpieces my parents make as I stare into the bubbling broth and mouth-watering side dishes. Like a hungry bear waiting for the honey to be ready. At home, there is no reason to be bored surrounded by nature. The sweet, smelly flowers beam in the glowing sun. The busy bees burrowing in their big home. The ambitious birds chirping on a hot summer day. The flaming embers of the recent campfire you’ve had glows in the chilly night. These attributes colors and brightens nature. The tiresome mountain hiking you did when you were bored at home. These things are the meaning of home.