I never spent my teenage years wanting to get out of here. Instead, it was always a place to come home to. A country of long views. (Boarding school was where I wanted to escape from… but that’s another story.)
The people here are different – the voices I notice first; the broad kiwi curled up with a soft Scots burr.
And they’re more aware of connections – here I am someone’s son / brother / uncle… so even if I don’t know who they are, they all know who I am.
There’s a place here if I ever need it. It’s not automatic… but I’d get enough time to earn it. And that’s nice to know.