The office. Usually during meetings.
Bri2k
South Bronx in the early 80’s. Although I didn’t so much cry as go home, paint a picture of it, and then complain to my high school counselor, who couldn’t do much.
Sunrise over the Atlantic over a sea of clouds at 37000ft. Definitely tears in my eyes and I didn’t want that moment to end.
A small valley with farmhouses slightly west of the Hohengeroldseck castle in the Black Forest as viewed from the top of that castle as the sun is close to the horizon before sunset. Again, just one of those beautiful, perfect moments.
I remember the late afternoon I spent paddling an OC on the Lachine Canal in October 2009 as being beautiful as well - the sun on the water, the air cooling down but the water still warm from the summer. I got the call when I went home that my grandmother was in hospital - she died that night. I was able to make it to the hospital to see her, still wearing my paddling clothes. I miss her, and I want that moment back so badly. 
Victoria Falls made me sort of get a stinging in the eyes. I’d wanted to see it all my life and the power and beauty of the locale is overwhelming.
What a bunch of pussies we all are!
And I’m damn glad of it! 
Quasi
I’ve seen lots of wonderful places - Glacier National Park, Grand Canyon, underwater at Cook’s Bay in Hawaii, and so on. And all of them moved me.
But the only time I’ve been moved to uncontrolled tears was at an Air Museum…I came around a corner and there was a Phantom F-4. That sight brought on a deluge of memories, both good and bad, and an equal outpouring of tears.
I can’t go back…it is sort of scary to me.
Me too. Me and the Enginerd Hubby went to DC on our honeymoon and the only memorial we got to see was the Wall. Between realizing the ages of the people who died there was roughly around my age or younger, the number of names being a few at the ends and increasing until the Wall is taller than you, and that the marble reflects your image…yeah.
Hand me a tissue.
The evening ceremony at Mount Rushmore. It welled up a burst of patriotism and brought a tear to my eye.
The room at the Holocaust Museum in DC with all the shoes. The cattle car and the Auschwitz bunk beds set me on edge, but that pushed me right over.
I was in Air Force basic training. They directed a group of us into a small enclosed building to experience the effects of tear gas. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house.
I got to attend a reunion of the 8th Air Force several years ago. I watched WWII veterans who could barely walk struggle out of their wheelchairs to stand at attention when the flag was brought in. It was very moving.
The Wall was rough. It made me feel sick to my stomach first time I saw it. I just stood there in stunned horror at the power of it and felt fortunate to have come back from such a bloodbath. It’s truly a message to future generations, although we don’t seem to be able to listen.
I did a tour of St. Petersburg, Russia witha survivor of the siege during WWII. He was a friend of one of my prof’s and had been a child during the war. As we walked, recounted the horrors of the battle and the attempts his parents made to keep his childhood as normal as possible, it was extremely emotional for me and I’m not that type.
It wasn’t unexpected (I cry at beer commercials), but the American Cemetery in Normandy pretty much did me in. The next day, seeing the tiny village of Montgardon where my grandfather-in-law died, with its modest but well-maintained monument to “The American soldiers who gave their lives to liberate us” was almost overwhelming.
And for some reason, my first ever view of Ireland from the air.
Pffft…whatever.
Judging from your username, I’ll bet you know what I mean…there’s just something about that place.
Yeah, I like Biscayne Bay too…wait, intervening post 
I’ve found artifacts; that’ll really make you neck hair stand up.
That, and the rockart panels that do Indiana Jones stuff.
Seeing the Redwoods for the first time.
I’m not one to cry, but I’ve had some moving experiences.
Watching the sun rise over the Dead Sea.
And watching the sun rise from atop Mount Sinai after have slept the night at the summit.
Crossing the Spanish countryside by slow train in the middle of a stiflingly hot summer night, with a full moon lighting the hilly olive groves and the swirling orange and peach-coloured soil, with a beautiful girl by my side.
Visiting the concentration camp at Dachau was quite the experience.
Flying over southern Egypt to visit Abu Simbel. The landscape is shocking. It might as well be Mars.
Torrential downpour and almost-continuous lightning strikes backlighting the skyline during a crisp night in Venice, with waves from the canals washing over the sidewalks.
That four-year-old boy sitting alone on the sidewalk in Damascus, with his head in his hands, defeated. Seemingly, nothing to offer the world but a bucket of rotten fruit.
That girl I briefly locked eyes with on the subway in Berlin. That Girl. A whole life together, then nothing. Almost twenty years ago. I’ll never forget her.