I was up at six this morning and walked toward the river and to the old bridges and museums, on the way back I paused to lean on the bridge wall and take in the scene. I felt tears in the clear morning air with the bike commuters peddling at a steady pace behind me. What was this feeling, a sense of feeling at home or experiencing what was lost or never came to where I have anchored my life. There is something about this place that is more alive, deep and grounded that pulls at my core. Or is it just a release of so complex I can not fathom it. Perhaps it is all of these things.