Today as I was packing away the last of my things into boxes, I heard loud, lovely music coming from somewhere outside. I peaked out my window and saw a man playing his heart out on the accordion, standing in the small park beside my house.
It made me think back to last August, when I was just moving in the house I'm now leaving. One hot summer day right before classes started, I sat out on my porch swing, my thoughts consumed with how much I missed Prague....the city, my friends there, all the experiences of that summer. And all of a sudden as I sat there slowly swinging, this same accordion man started playing in the park, and I felt at home again. It reminded me of the street musicians I saw on the Charles Bridge the first day I landed in Prague and the ones that serenaded us in the city square in Krakow as I shared a late night conversation with my friends. Things began to feel right again.
It's one thing to move out of a dorm room, but it's strange to move out of a real house. It's odd to think of strangers living in this place that's become a home to me...but then again, I've moved so many times in the past three years, and in every place(my college dorm, my camp cabin, my city flat, my rented house) I feel home by the time I leave, no matter how unusual it feels when I first move in. I know I'll settle down someday, but for now I've gotten used to being a bit of a nomad...and I enjoy finding "home" in so many unexpected ways.
Here's to a week of house cleaning, box lifting, and a fancy wedding weekend!
May 31, 2009 at 7:39 PM
I liked this.