Walking down the street today I smelt suddenly a car fume or oil smell that is absolutely English: it doesn't exist in the States, or anywhere else I've ever been.
Getting used to places is a very quick process. For a short while - maybe a month, maybe two - they're somewhere unfamiliar, and then they are just home. This may be especially true for me, because I have the happy attribute of never missing anywhere I've lived before; as soon as I leave somewhere, it's as if I've never lived there (except England, of course. The same, incidentally, is true of people. In my whole life, I've missed seven people).
But walking down that street, and smelling that smell, I thought to myself that if I get to live in this country permanently I will take a moment every day to give thanks that I'm here. I'll never take it for granted.