A picture of home. Growing up in Canada I must have walked past this scene thousands of times in my life… unconsciously. A dusting of snow interrupted by tire tracks, representative of daily life for many. Maybe a cup of coffee in the hand, seeing your own breath and an agenda. Somewhere to be and a window scraper to be found. And now, because I am currently a visitor in my old world rather than a resident, I notice such things.  Nostalgia meets artistic appreciation I guess. 
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A picture of home.

Growing up in Canada I must have walked past this scene thousands of times in my life… unconsciously.

A dusting of snow interrupted by tire tracks, representative of daily life for many. Maybe a cup of coffee in the hand, seeing your own breath and an agenda. Somewhere to be and a window scraper to be found.

And now, because I am currently a visitor in my old world rather than a resident, I notice such things.  Nostalgia meets artistic appreciation I guess. 

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