I was born in Orenburg, Russia, in 1998 and came to Israel in 2008. As an immigrant, I carry with me the weight of memories from another land. Places and landscapes that follow me to every stage of life. Lurking in my physique like an echo or a shadow; that stubbornly comes to mind with every step on this foreign land. A recollection that belongs more to the body than to the thought. My proximity to the motherland can be measured by thousands of miles of yearning, reflexively resisting to identify myself as a local and imagen belonging elsewhere. Time weakens the strength of memories and longing associated with these feelings. After so many years away from my homeland, returning home created a deep rift within myself and my world. I find myself unable to balance reality and long-awaited harmony. The experience of nostalgia awakened not only by the distance from home but also by a yearning for the perfection of existence. I found my home in its absence, a place where memories bloom in sunset colors, scatter in shivers; and fill the space with scents from the past. Words can not translate my yearning for events that cannot be relieved and the burning longing to return to a place that is locked deep inside my memory. I live in my adopted land, yet, I am not sure who is more foreign – me or the place. I remember back at home, a distant voice of the cuckoo bird would always be heard after the storm, somewhere out in the woods on the outskirts of the village, acting like a consolation song of a mother calling for her children to come home. A birdsong that is calling me home.