Greetings!

As footprints shares feelings about Montreal is how I feel about London, England.  I've been there once and for some reason it has a draw for me.

The village where my granny lived also has a draw on me.  She is no longer there, hasn't been for years.  The area around is where all her family farmed.  Her house is gone.  But the church and church yard is still there.  When I travel there now I feel both a sorrowful/mournful feeling of what no longer is and an elated feeling of being able to be there once again.  I think for me it draws me back to where I felt in childhood - carefree, everything was easy, fun, lots of people, love - to visit was a vacation, something to look forward to every summer.

I had a friend whose house I loved to visit - reality, probably the friend made it that way.  Over the years our lives and situations have changed and so it is no longer the same - visits and the friendship have drifted, but I remember how I felt those many years ago.

There was a summer resort in my area that I spent a lot of time at as a child.  It is no longer there, except for the lake, some grass, and playground area (which are not well kept up) - the buildings, most grassy areas, and special attractions are all gone.  I still like to go and walk through and remember the sights, sounds, and smells of days gone by.

Hope, peace, joy, love . . .

the cottage...mmmmm.... birch leaves and poplar twittering in the soft breeze, filtering the summer sunlight into patterns against the cottage walls.  windchimes.  sparkling waters.  rocks and moss and chipmunks and quiet, except for happy laughter and glasses clinking and sighs from comfy drowsy folks resting in the shade.  Muskoka is my special spot.

Must be very special, birthstone for you to say it twice .  I also love being at the cottage for all the reasons you mentioned as well as campfires, swimming, and boating.

Beloved -- you evoked so well that sad nostalgia for what has gone.  It's the same for me, remembering summers long ago in Port Dover Ontario, where we spent quite a few summer holidays.  On the surface, some things are still there, but it's not the same.  It seems all the places from my childhood which were so humble, are now "gentrified" and private. 

Maybe we see the past through sentimental, rose-coloured glasses.......

I have a relationship with tons of places for tons of reasons. My energy becomes saturated with the tone of the place like a steeping tea bag.

I try to show up in the first minutes anywhere in a sacred manner because I am open to embrace without fear the knowledge of myself the place invites. When I am loud and boisterous (as I usually am later) I can be unconscious to that.

It struck me that a few already mentioned basically "home" for us.  We found a sacred landscape, a humble setting and a humble place, and made it home - just north of the Muskokas. We chose a bit north and a good ways off Hwy. 11 because as a place becomes known for its vibe, its feel, its memories, its sacredness... people flock there. People who may not know sacred or keep sacred.

As we drive along the shield's outcrop as they cut the new path for Hwy. 11 my wife squirms and says "I can hear the rocks screaming" and I hear it too. Once they have been cut long enough, nobody hears... sometimes it is just nobody is listening....

(((Omnissiah))) I get what losing camp can mean.... I get connection to place and people in places.....

I have a special fondness and nostalgia for Toronto. It brings up a lot of people memories. It can be like a big escape, take the subway somewhere and end up surrounded by people, go shopping or get coffee, meet up with friends and have fun. I really like the feeling of getting lost. It reminds me of certain friends, spending time with my mom, escaping stress and school and parting with lots of money for caffeinated drinks.

I feel pretty fond of London, England too. Partly it reminds me of my family there. 

Interesting thread.  My favourite and very special place is an island community off the south coast of Labrador.  I have been spending time there as a visitor and volunteer since 2002.

I fell in love with the place and the people immediately.  It is a small rocky island - about a mile long and half a mile wide, and a sacred place for me.  It is the place where I find myself in the peace and solitude and remoteness.  The people are wonderfully honest, warm and welcoming.  

There are no motorized vehicles...we walk everywhere and living is a little on the rough side, but the simplicity is good.

From anywhere on the island the views of the north Atlantic are stunningly beautiful - the ocean calm and inviting one day, and in turmoil another, with giant waves crashing the shore.

We experience the many moods of weather, from brilliant sunshine to mysterious fog.

Wildlife abounds - seabirds, dolphins and several species of large whales are often seen from island vantage points, and early in the season we witness majestic icebergs floating by.