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There’s no place like home

I realized that I’ve stopped taking pictures. Granted, I’m really busy right now — packing and preparing to move — but the reason is deeper than that.

I don’t want to pick up the camera because I know I cannot capture the image as I see it, as I feel it, and as it appears in my heart. My home for 17 years is a thing that cannot be conveyed in a flat and lifeless format.

I discovered this while I was watching the robins move through my yard last week as they do every year. The correct term for a group of birds is flock, but during the fall migration what came through here felt more like a mammalian herd than an avian flyby. It was breathtaking to watch. And before they left, the bright red berries on the 10-foot holly tree disappeared.

This is one example in a million examples of the cycles and sounds at the home I’ve come to know so well. Inside, I recognize every creak. I can discern between the smell that means it’s time to dust the vents and the one that indicates it’s time to call the fire company. Everything is safe and familiar here.

And very soon, in increments now measured in days, I will walk out the door for the very last time.

Do the robins grow melancholy as the temperature drops and they prepare to leave their summer home? Do they wish they could stay when the winter temperatures rise again, pushing them to say farewell once more?

Admittedly, this goodbye will soon become a hello. I’m going to a place as much as I’m leaving one. The cycles, sounds, and smells will be new, and curiosity will replace this reluctance to leave. Friends and family will visit, and new memories will be born.

And back here, a different family will witness the robin assault. Chances are they’ll be surprised at first. “Look at all the robins!” they’ll say. Then, eventually, the event will become commonplace, like homeland wonders always do.

Nearly two decades of change fill my photo collection. Now all there is to photograph is packed-up cardboard boxes and a sold sign. I’ll start another album next month, one freshened with the inspiration to take photos again. But for now more than ever before I’m realizing how it easy it is to take a home for granted, that is until it’s time to go.

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