It's early. The morning air brushes the skin I have exposed, leaving goosebumps on my legs and arms. Lightly pinching my face and brushing aside what's left of last night's sleep. There's only a few that stir at this time of the morning and I take in the serenity.

My heart belongs to a million places and none. It flies freely across oceans and continents nestling warmly among recognisable faces and places. How did I get so bittersweet lucky? Most people have their home and loved ones within arms-reach, there to see, to touch, to speak with. Where they call home a familiar place they have always known, a place they were raised and will raise their children.