Home All Over the World

North America. From provinces to territories to states home is carried in the soft summer breeze. The rush of jumping in leaves in the fall. The rich smell of hot chocolate with soft squishy marshmallows and the sight of new life in the spring. Asia. When I hear the soft sound of the Koto I think of home. Home is like the warm smell of my moms chow Mein as it hits my nostrils. Home is the trill and the fun of getting drenched with colour on Holi. When I practice my Bharatanatyam dance I think of how graceful and fun home is. South America. When I visit Iguazu falls and home floods my thoughts at the wonder and the beauty of it with every spray of water or see machu picchu in the fall with light mist in the air. When I taste my parents hard work on the dulce de leche I think of how hard they work every day just for me. When I see my parents share a pisco sour I think of there love for each other and for me Africa. When I see the jungle, the savanna, the desert and the many rivers I feel proud of my heritage and my home when table mountain cloaks the town in darkness at sunset and rise think of the struggles we go through and our family and our home that can help us get through it. For me my home is safe high above the waters of despair. For me my home is like a puzzle we sometimes argue where a piece goes but we figure it out in the end. For me my home is like my hedge that keep the many blessings safe inside my heart.