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Home is where your heart is

I want to come back here.

Even though people say what’s good there, just the deserts and the rocky mountains, and the wind never stops, tousle hair, clothes, and thoughts. There is no tranquility, no silent Lithuanian forest or gentle waving meadows, no cozy corner by the fireplace. Here nature is naked and harsh, it will not cuddle you, it is too big, coldly indifferent, and you are small and insignificant.

Still, the home attracts me even more. But not the honey’s rivers and the paradise gardens attract me. If your heart would be living on Mars, you would climb a mountain, rooftop, or tree every night to just get closer to that illuminating point in the big sky. Home is where your heart is.

© Fortune, 2019

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