A Sense of Place

Some time ago, looking across an Umbrian valley, I spotted a house in the distance. It stood at the top of a hill snuggled against a giant tree. They seemed made for each other, like two sweet friends watching time go by. As I gazed out at the scene my heart did that thing it does when I fall in love. I pointed toward the hill and said to nobody at all, except maybe to myself, “that!” In that moment I knew that’s what I wanted: I wanted to be home.  Have you ever fallen in love with a house? With a place?