I have been reading Rainer Maria Rilke's Letters to a Young Poet. In the introduction it is said, that after an extended stay in Russia, Rilke for ever after, considered Russia, " that remote & sorrowful land" as his "his spiritual home."
This thought resonated with me. I am often at a loss to explain the emotional attachment that I feel for my home in France.
I am drawn to the simplicity of life here, the sky, the birds joyful song, the gardens, & the fields.
And the hundreds of years of history, of lives lived & lost, the joys & sorrows of a millennium.
I also see in my little corner of France a remoteness, like stepping back in time & at times I see a sorrowful sort of beauty.
As Rilke felt about Russia, I too feel about this lovely place. It is my spiritual home.