autumn.

There is this place. It is comfortable and warm and completely safe. Tucked back into the corner, surrounded by pillows, pushed up next to the window - here I am content. The evening autumn sun is angled in, throwing its perfect golden rays across my lap and just touching the corner of my eye. The leaves outside are shining a radiant red, reminding me of the fact that my heart belongs here, tempting me to throw in the towel on the whole California adventure and return to my roots. The mountains are glittering; the last few rays of the sun make the freshly fallen snow sparkle and shimmer underneath snow-dusted pines of the deepest green.

The cat purrs at my feet, warming me more effectively than any conventional pair of slippers could. My parents are here, watching TV, talking about nothing and everything all at the same time. Even though I'm not engaging them in conversation, I can feel their joy at my simple presence in the room. The smell of dinner lingers on and the thought of cookies and tea is edging in to the back of my mind.

I love it here. This place is home. The snow and leaves and bright blue sky are the most beautiful sights in the world. Maybe I won't always live here, and maybe my address won't always end with '80127', but this place will always, always hold my heart and be my home.