“…but rather than the trunks of trees climbing to awesome heights it was stalacto-stalagmites scattered about a large cavern.”

I’ve had “New Home” by Ada on repeat for a bulk of the day here in the office. After such a long time spent in the Warren, a “new home” feels almost like a completely foreign concept. Of course there have been many places on the Surface where I found great comfort, but a new home they were not. This humble little community is the only home I think I will know, and have known for what seems like ages—and for all I remember it may have been! My memory gets a little hazy when recalling specific dates from so very long ago.

Ada

There is a kind of wobble to the gait of “New Homes”, and so there should be! There is also a feeling of unrelenting flux, and rightly so! With so much volatility inherent in the process of removing yourself from a place and attaching to another, there is no avoiding those feelings. At the core of this song, however, is another emotion that runs deeper still: exhilaration! Oh, let us not forget the excitement of coming to know a new place as our own! To so seamlessly blend the two, to recreate the emotion so truthfully, that is an accomplishment worthy of some pride.

It’s hard to imagine the Warren was ever anything but my home. Though it does bring me some amount of joy to think of the small settlement I knew as a child, Dripstone, a half days walk from the Soostik on a downward slope. It was not unlike the forests on the Surface—or, of course, the Fallen Forest here—but rather than the trunks of trees climbing to awesome heights it was stalacto-stalagmites scattered about a large cavern. Ah! And the small pond! It was green at its surface and four feet down it turned cobalt blue.

I think it has been far too long since I gave Dripstone a visit.