My old ones taught me that no matter where I go, that I am culturally obligated to treat place as I would my own Country. With love and respect and with the knowledge that we do not inherit the earth from our Grandparents, we merely borrow it from our Grandchildren.

Maybe home can be found in new/old friends on your travels.

Maybe we carry home with us from where we grow up, to where we find our roots, or even where we find our feet, right now?

And sometimes home can be found in the funniest of places, like that time I found my Nan and Pops kitchen table.

They say home is where the heart is; right now my heart is on Gomeroi country, I miss that place.