There is a popular trope in America about not being able to ever truly "go home." I never lived in a house for more than seven years from the age of nine until the age of thirty-seven. I have now lived in a state and a town far from family or roots. And despite this rootlessness, I have now lived here for longer than I ever have before. No one I know lives in any of the houses I grew up in. And there are all sorts of ways that my growing-up years were full of exclusion and feeling like an outsider. So this trope makes a lot of sense to me.
I drove for seven hours to take my kids to the town where my parents and siblings and grandparents now live and nearing the end of the trip I snapped this photo. There were a couple of significant ways in which this trip marked the end of some of my homelessness and the light flare in the camera lens maybe signalled a new sense of home that could grow? Driving into the sunset implies a kind of happily ever after? And a sense of journey, growth and "onward!"ness? What does this sunset mean for me?