Meaning, where have you visited that you cried unexpectedly?
I had the odd sensation of crying profusely at Waimea Canyon in Kauai. It was purely a physical response to a breathtaking view (I’ve yet to experience this sensation anywhere else) but at the time, I don’t think I could articulate why I was so moved.
Mission mountains in Montana, seen from highway 93 north of Missoula. Similarly, most of the great plains are indescribably beautiful. As a kid I lived near the Sweet Grass Hills in northern Montana, and when I went back to visit a few years ago, I got that familiar tightness in my throat at the sight of those hills.
? This is just bizarre. Did you actually cry or you wanted to?
Just curious are you male or female?
I was going to visit a friend that lived in Chesapeak Bay VA, and there is a tunnel that goes under the ocean on I64 in Virginia Beach. As I drove out of the tunnel, up the ramp, there was ocean on either side of me; gulls were swooping down across the highway against that cloudless blue sky. It was one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen and yes, I cried.
The USS Arizona. Standing over the wreckage at the memorial really struck me.
My kitchen, two nights ago. I was chopping up an onion.
Over the river and through the woods, driving to the little town where my grandma lived. I find it unbearably difficult to visit there now that she’s gone.
Sombody mentioned my nephew, who died needlessly. It brings a tear to my eye and intermixes pain, anger, and hurt.
The Winehouse death rubbed me raw.
The first time I visited Colorado, when I knew I was meant to be here.
Landing at Stapleton for the first time, I looked out the window and saw the Rockies. I felt a sense of peace, of being at home, that I’d never experienced before. In fact, a yearning and a searching that I never knew was there…stopped. Which is how I knew it had been there all my life in the first place. It’s difficult to describe.
Then, later that trip, I was driving with friends down 285 over Kenosha Pass. South Park (it’s a real place, but not a city) opened up before us as we rounded a curve, and the vastness and peace and ethereal beauty of the place just created a sense of joy that caused me to cry, as I realized I’d found my home for the first time in my life.
People make fun of it (and they probably should, it’s maudlin), but for me, there’s a lot of truth in “Rocky Mountain High.”
I don’t think I actually cried, but the Sistine Chapel was unexpectedly moving.
I’m a guy, early 30s and yes, it is bizarre. I actually cried, tears just rolling down my face, but I didn’t feel anything, at least not in a sense that was familiar to me. It wasn’t windy and I don’t think there was anything in the air that would have triggered tears.
That’s why I posted, because I want to know if places do this to other people. Obviously somewhere with emotional meaning (e.g., a town where your grandma lived or Auschwitz) is one thing, but this was out of the blue. Hawaii has no “meaning” to me, I was simply there on vacation.
Chaco Canyon. I didn’t cry, but just had the feeling of being somewhere profoundly spiritual, even though I’m not really a spiritual person.
Don’t know if I’ve ever cried at a place but I did literally get on my knees in the Rockies, with a perfect mix of waterfalls, stream, rocks, flowers, wooden bridge, and mountains.
I would have gotten on my knees in Havasupai gorge due to the unbelievableness of the blue waters and stream and canyon, but my legs were already in the water at the time.
Moved Cafe Society --> IMHO.
When I visited the Cleveland Museum of Art at the age of 15. A room full of Monet.
Not quite what you’re asking, but pretty close:
I grew up in North Carolina and, stifled by local culture, moved to Washington State for college as soon as I could.
In my sophomore year, I took a class on electoral politics. One day in class we watched a documentary about a congressional race in the North Carolina mountains. There was a bit of stock footage of a car driving along the Blue Ridge Parkway (an incredibly beautiful road through the Appalachians) with some hammered dulcimer music playing, and I, completely unexpectedly, teared up with intense homesickness.
That was the instant when I decided to move back home.
Gary, Indiana.
No place has actually moved me to tears because of its beauty, but I was recently standing of the Gay Head cliffs in Aquinnah, MA. It was unbelievably breathtaking.
I didn’t cry, but I had to stop, stunned.
It was my first winter in Salt Lake city, and I was coming down a staircase in the Physics Department. There was a huge window in the other wall, looking directly west across the Sat Lake Valley to the Oquirrh mountains beyond. The top halves of tyhe mountains were covered with snow, while the lower half was still bare (it was the first snowfall of the season). It looked just like all those pictures of mountains I’d seen as a kid, but I grew up in the relatively flat East. I was stunned by the scene, even seen through the window, and had to stop and stare.
I saw lots of breathtaking scenery in my time out there, but none of tem hit me so suddenly and unaware as that one did.