I arrived “home” on the the 28th, arriving under a blanket of fog that was swiftly moving in, as if it were a welcome mat being rolled out to greet me. It’s inexplicable, the feeling I get when I see the Welcome to Hermitage sign. My warring emotions of knowing so many loved ones have passed and there will be no dropping in for tea with them. The feeling of elation, and simple quiet ease, as if shedding a heavy weight I didn’t know I had been carrying. The anxiousness of wanting- no needing to get to the ocean, to smell the air and the beautiful perfume of the sea.
Everywhere I look in this small town, there are memories that are always attached to someone I love. I can’t recall a memory without thinking fondly of the people I made the memories with.
I’ve walked all over town this visit, taking photos of the beauty that is Hermitage, trying to capture its essence to share with everyone I know on the west coast. But a picture can’t capture the feeling. It can’t capture the warmth of the people, the undying love of family or the hard work of the people that keep this town alive. It can’t capture the simple quietness, when all you hear are your thoughts and the waves and the seagulls.
My time here in Hermitage is quickly coming to an end and I can’t help but feel a sense of panic. A fear of losing this warm blanket of feeling I’ve had since my arrival. I leave with the dream of having a home here one day. A place to invite friends to visit so they can experience my amazing hometown. A small oasis I can escape to as often as possible. A place to recharge my soul.
PIECE OF MY SOUL.
Newfoundland owns a little piece of my soul,
She’s claimed since the day of my birth.
Just a little piece of my soul
But there’s no way to measure its worth.
Newfoundland’s traditions are strong.
They reach right down to the bone.
But when she took a piece of my soul
She left a small part of her own.
Now that piece of my soul keeps calling me.
Calling by night and by day,
Saying let’s become one again.
Come home, come home…to stay.