My places writing is somewhat accidental. Important places tend to come up when I think i’m writing about something else. For example, Fredville is the partly accidental place that holds the oak Majesty. In my piece about suicide, the place that helps is a humble municpal common and an old reservoir. Walking in a park proves to be the the right choice for melancholy. Fear of being lost in suburban woods is a springboard to ecstacy. What starts as rational critique becomes lyrical enchantment on the island of Sark.
I’ve written about the spirit of place in the piece about suicide below, but it is worth reminding ourselves that such spirits are very powerful. The genius loci can imbue a place long after it has been ‘developed’ or otherwise ruined by human agency. Sometimes these spirits seem to wait until they can reclaim the land. As to what such spirits are… it is difficult to say without inviting ridicule. Sometimes a place becomes holy, perhaps because of location, more often through some lost historical meaning. But once a place has that aura, it is difficult to dislodge.
I hope you find this places writing interesting and maybe even useful. I have also written many pieces about psychology, politics, nature and music. There’s poetry too. They all speak of places in one way or another.