I think it takes a year.
One whole year in any new place is about the length of time it takes to feel settled, to feel as though you are a part of place, rather than a visitor just occupying a space. We have been here nearly seven months and I am starting , just now, to feel the twinges of belonging, of ownership, of a sense of "this is my home". It feels good, as if something really, really great is just around the corner and all of this hard work we have been setting forth to do will be so very worth it in the future.
I believe that you must witness the change of all four seasons in a place before it can feel like home. You have to know where the day lilies push through the soil in order to know where to expect them the next spring. You have to know the order in which the fruit trees will bloom and you have to know when the maple trees will drop their spring flowers so that you don't open the pool too soon. You have to dig your bare hands into the soil, pulling out years' worth of garbage left behind by previous owners, before you feel the sense of ownership that allows you to scold the schoolboy who shamelessly litters on your front lawn right in front of you. "This is my front yard, not your garbage can!" you will yell, feeling a sense of pride and indignance that has not been there before.
In five months' time I expect to be there, all the way there. Right now we are building the attachments and relationships with neighbors, our house, and our community, that will help make this place really and truly our home. Every day that we spend working around the house and the yard, walking to the library and school and work, and chatting with our own series of Wilsons* over the top of the fence, bring us closer to home.
*Please tell me you get this reference! From the t.v. show Home Improvement...
