i’ve been blessed with the opportunity to appease my severe case of wanderlust with travels both domestic and abroad. spain, ireland, savannah and chicago. nashville has all but become a temporary residence, san francisco, too. but while i may dream about replanting permanently to one of these locations, i can’t help but think that with each passing day, God is revealing to me new appreciations for my city of origin.
last night, on the twelfth floor of the restaurant, my parents and i gazed out upon this view:
the same view that greets me every time i am a passenger on a plane much like the one photographed above. and the same view that let’s me know again that i am home.
being raised in san diego, i can’t help but feel as though i’ve become quite jaded to its picturesque landscape. which is why the perpetual itch to flee its borders and make a new life for myself somewhere with fresh faces and uncharted spaces is constantly looming over me, like a cloud of possibility. and so i travel, and explore, and seriously contemplate making the jump. but then the skies part, and the coronado bridge comes into view, like a big blue beacon beckoning me home. and i can’t help but to think that there are few things better than this. few things better than falling in love with a city that offers so much familiarity but also so much left to be discovered as well.
from the swami’s coastline in cardiff to the village of la jolla, to where we were last night, nestled up against balboa park, with a view of the san diego skyline and harbor, i’m constantly reaffirming in my own mind why it’s no accident san diego has been coined “america’s finest city.”
and i’m equal parts blessed and overjoyed to call this city my own.
Let me go home
I’ve had my run
Baby, I’m done
I gotta go home
Let me go home
It’ll all be all right
I’ll be home tonight
I’m coming back home
“home” | michael buble