I’ve been doing a bit of traveling around lately, with business trips to Atlanta and a family vacation in Washington, DC. When I was away, I felt like something was… missing. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I just knew that something was wrong, like a cloud hovering over me. I finally figured it out on the drive back from DC. The first time I topped a rise and caught a glimpse of those beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains silhouetted against the sky, the cloud was lifted and I felt a surge of emotion. I was… home.
I’m not from Asheville originally, but I’ve lived here for a long time now. I lived in several different places throughout my life, but I never really identified with any of them as my “home”. They say “Home is where the heart is”, but my heart wasn’t in any of those places. Each one was only my home in the sense that it was where I lived.
Finally, my journey brought me here to Asheville. It wasn’t an immediate thing. At first I thought it was just another place that I lived. I didn’t really know that it had changed for me until that drive back from DC. Cresting that hill and seeing that impressive vista of blue on blue mountains that Asheville natives know so well, and the tide of joy that came with it made it clear. This is where my heart is. This place is my home.
Every time I look out a window at work, I see that beautiful expanse of blue on blue, the same views you see here on our video streams. Since I got back, I see them a little differently. Now every time I look out my window, I smile a little.
