Beautiful day in Oxford! I am tempted say that spring has finally dawned, but will not risk jinxing tomorrow's weather as the weather in the UK is as fickle as it gets. Someone once told me that the word 'climate' does not exist here; only day-to-day or hour-to-hour 'weather.' I wholly concur. 

I took advantage of the pretty day and went for a jog in the University Parks. I passed excited dogs, little children on tricycles, sunbathing ducks, grass-grazing horses, blooming irises, and lovers strolling hand in hand. It's amazing what a little bit of sunshine and green can do for your mood. 

My mood. Ever since you have gone, I am suffering from homesickness. Which is a rather interesting statement, because it's not necessarily home that I miss. Naturally I do miss the vibe of Seoul, the horribly packed and overly energetic bustle of the city. But there are also parts of Seoul I would wish to avoid, such as the obnoxious drunk men on the streets or the rude and hurried pedestrians. And yes, I do miss the provocative food but that is available in London as well. There are plenty of Koreans here in Oxford for me to converse with, if it is the language that I miss. But not so much. Then what is it that I miss? 

I'm inclined to say it's the easiness with which I can access everything that is familiar to me.  Even if we don't see one another for weeks, there is a certain sense of comfort knowing that we reside under the same city-roof. I may not want to eat dduk-bok-gee every single night but know that should I crave it, I could run outside in my pajamas and ask for 2000 won of it and wheedle an extra half-egg off the ajooma. I don't think it's even Koreanness that I am homesick for, but rather nostalgia for the accessibility and familiarity of all that is dear.