It took the inevitable period of time, where I yearned for my old home in the Yukon.
I missed the familiar. I missed those safe feelings. I missed the vastness, and mountains. I missed that comfortable feeling of being alone, something I first learned to accept, and then embrace.
But now, those feelings don't pop up the same way they used to. I still miss the Yukon, but I am okay with it being part of our past.
There is this view, here in the Valley, that catches my breath every time.
It is just as you get off the highway, and are driving towards Wolfville. You can see the village of Port Wiliams, the apple orchards, homes, churches and farms, Cornwallis River (which is fed from the Bay of Fundy, so it is tidal) and the red cliffs of Blomidon Provincial Park in the distance. Each time, I scan the river to see if the tide is in or out. It's beautiful and magical, each time.
It's the little things that make me feel at home here. Tuesdays are our library day. The librarians know our name when we go in. The farmer's market is fun on Saturdays. We always bump into a neighbour or acquaintance there. I now know a few parents at my son's school, we do coffee sometimes together. The neighbourhood kids down the street call on Noah and Katia to play outside, we had them over for brunch the other weekend. This place is just small enough to feel a real sense of community, and I like it.
For a while, I had this unsettled feeling in my gut. I questioned whether this had been the right choice for us. Was this really our home, and would we really like it here?
I can now say without any reservation, that I am 100% sure that this is the right place for our family to live and grow. I'm excited to see what adventures lie ahead for us.