Cold autumn evenings. As the sun sets and the drizzle falls. Not a heavy rain, just a light one. That’s what I miss. The streets covered in golden brown leaves and conkers. Reminding me of my childhood and collecting conkers. Big bags full of conkers. Going home and putting them in vinegar.
It’s unique. You only get that feeling when you are walking along your own street, or sitting on the bus watching people walk along the roads you knew as a child. For all the borders crossed. All the beaches sat upon. Famous places been to, the only place that can give you this feeling is home.
After years of sun and heat. Short winters and long hot, humid summers. You long for the sharp coldness of winter mornings. The pale blue sky as the sun rises. You miss it, you want to experience it again even for just a morning. Wrapping up in thick jackets and gloves. A comfort in the warmth.
The places that you walked past everyday, places that you never appreciated. People that you never gave a second thought. But when you think of home, they all come to your mind. So distant, so unremarkable, yet their thought giving you a solace when times are hard.
Thinking back to times as a child. The grey Sunday afternoons, playing football. Cold hands and feet. Wanting to be anywhere but on the muddy grass. Yet now you think back with fondness. Times of innocence, carefree, the cold being your only worry. A freedom and serenity.
Even the bad memories. Times that you want to forget. When far away they don’t seem as bad. You even look back with some fondness at those times. Wondering if they were really that bad. Distance gives everything perspective. We become appreciative of what we took for granted and now don’t have.
All the years you spent dreaming of escape. Dreaming of wanting to be elsewhere. Hating home. Now, it’s a place you yearn for. Somewhere you want to be. Even just for a day, even for an hour. Just to take comfort.