A picture from Morups Tånge in Halland Sweden. I lived just one kilometre from this proud lighthouse from the age of 13 to 27. Made me think about what’s home. In my first 13 years we moved as many times so this was the first time I actually felt rooted. I drove past the farm and the new owners had changed pretty much everything. So the feeling of home was not for me anymore, all gone. Maybe it’s like that song “wherever I lay my hat, that’s my home”. What do you think?

There’s no place like home, ha de Gött!