One of the challenges of living in Scotland for a year was just that — we only lived there for a year. A year is long enough to do many things in life, like plan a wedding, write a book, wear out a pair of running shoes, but not nearly long enough to really get to know a place. A year is not long enough to feel like you belong to a place.

The language North Dakotans speak is a unique version of English. Though they don’t have thirty different words for snow like the Inuits are said to have, sometimes a local will come out with a phrase that’s new for me, but a phrase that just works. One example of such a phrase is to say something like, “Sam is Fairdale” or “Jenny is Park River.” A person’s name followed by “is” and a town name works as a great indicator for some. One’s hometown becomes very descriptive of oneself.

I’ve lived in Decatur, Georgia now for about four years — or at least, my possessions have stayed in the city limits for about four years and I’ve usually be with them. I’ll never “be Decatur” as they might say in the midwest, but I sure do like it. That said, it’s taken me about three years to really feel it, to get those windy roads but also to feel like I understood it. After three years of breaking it in, I’ve got my favorite restaurants and waiters, running paths and dogs to see jumping at the fence, book store and dry cleaner, and my particular drinks at specific coffee shops. It took about three years to feel at home, but that did it. It did it good.

When you get a drivers license with a new home town, it looks strange for a long time. Eventually, though, if things are going well that state and town name begins to become a part of you. You don’t have to say anymore, “I live in ________, but I’m actually from ______.” You might change your facebook hometown and subscribe to the local paper.

Feeling settled takes a while, maybe even three years or so, but the trick, I think, is to enjoy the transition, to not rush it, and just be where you happen to be.