The Climate of my Childhood

The first 10 years of my life I lived in Connecticut. After that we moved to Florida, with its foreign, subtropical climate and 3 inch long cockroaches. I always felt as if I were in a third world country. This would never feel like “home” to me.

Now I’m in Seattle, and the climate is very similar to that of Connecticut, although the winters aren’t nearly as harsh. Just like in New England, the leaves change colors in the fall here, and apples grow. You see all sorts of flowers that come from bulbs that did not thrive in Florida. Daffodils. Tulips, Irises, Crocuses. And other plants like Forsythia and Lilac and Pussy Willows.

I can’t tell you how much emotion is evoked in me by seeing these things again. These were the flowers my mother adored. They filled the yards where I used to play. Feeling soft grass and moss beneath my feet again and smelling the loamy earth rather than the lime-laden sand of Florida nearly brings tears to my eyes.

Even though I had never set foot in Washington State until I moved here 6 months ago, everywhere I turn, it feels as if Mother Nature is saying, “Welcome home.” And that means everything to me.


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