Home is a place where family dwells. A place secluded from the rest of the world. It's the miles of woods that surround you; and the thick smell of pine that hangs in the air. A place where you could spend hours searching for turtles in the muddy creek. The constant movement of lighting bugs that fly and shine at night. Home is hearing the pouring rain hit the roof and trickle down the rusted chimney. Hearing the house creaking when you move to fast because it's so old. Remembering the smell of fire on a cold night from the woodburner. The memories, good and bad, that you are reminded of when you look at the walls filled with pictures. A place where the smell of fresh and earthy perfume clings to you and becomes your signature scent. Home is hearing the loud bang of the flagpole when its windy; and the hum of four wheelers driving through the yard. A place where when when it rains to hard, the two ponds connect, making a large pond across the driveway. It's a place where you can constantly here the faint barking of the neighbors dog across the field. It's a place that when you walk in all of your troubles seem to just melt away. It's something that we know like the back of our hand. Even the smallest things that we may not pay much attention to is embedded in our minds, even if we dont realize it. Home is a place where you feel safe to be yourself. I may not live here anymore,but my new house is not yet a home.