The weather is warming up. In the past few days since Spring began there's been a lot more light and sunshine and even some warm gentle breeze. There's tiny new leaves on the trees and on the ground it seems an immense garen has burst to life. It feels a lot closer to home, and that somehow makes it bittersweet. My heart getting giddy feeling I'm back home, only to realize a breath afterwards that I'm still here. No don't get me wrong; I'm thrilled to be here and I intend to stay put for many, many years. Still there are moments that take your breath away and - in a single moment, triggering one single sense - can bring you close to tears. Happy tears, mind you. The seagulls' cry on a sunny morning takes me back to our yearly family vacation in Algarve. The smell of a random barbecue in the air transports me to downtown Lisbon on a regular 13th of June. The taste of a lamb and mint pie is the taste of childhood dinners in Alentejo. And - for the most part - it always takes you off guard. You're walking down the street and bam! something transports you in time and space back to where you came from. To all those happy memories and places (and people) you left behind.
I like the seagulls' cry, just like I treasure everything that takes me back, even if only for a second. Even if it hurts a little. Because it's all part of my heritage, of who I am. And I can't (or even don't want) to simply ignore it.