I had always believed that we are shaped by the places we inhabit, that our mannerisms are born from the mood of a place. Grow up surrounded by peach trees and peaches will grow you up. You could almost look into a person's eyes and know hot or cold, vast or lush, rural or urban. In Old English, become is becuman, meaning "come to a place, come to be." We be-come our landscape. No way around it. Which left peripatetic people like me not orphaned, but an amalgamation.
