Our old place looks alien without our furniture. It's just a collection of empty rooms now. When we returned to pick up some boxes, after the movers had done their job hauling the heavy stuff, my heart lurched at the emptiness. I was homesick for that tiny 4 room apartment, with its solid wood doors and crown molding, proximity to Magee's Bakery, and view of the backyard that gave us occasional glimpses of the obese corgi (when we first saw it, we thought it was a pot-bellied pig) that lived beneath us.
Our new place is vast in comparison. I keep forgetting we have an upstairs. The eating area looks out onto the backyard and past that to the field bordering it. We have to seek each other out, rather than just call out. Pope doesn't know what to do with himself in all this space.