The Deep Heart's Core

I'm a person prone to becoming very attached to places.  The word "place" brings to mind a physical setting, but a place can just as easily exist in the mind, as a feeling or emotion that recalls what we believe to be the essence of the physical place in question.  Recently my grandparents sold their cottage on Howe Island, a place that provided a welcome retreat throughout my childhood, adolescence, and until now, adulthood.  These images by Marcus Nilsson (via English Muse) are not of my family's cottage, but for some reason allow me recall exactly what it was like to be there.  Or more fittingly, they incite my idealized, perhaps semi-made up recollections of life was like at the cottage.  

The poem "Lake Isle if Innisfree" by Yeats is a beautiful reflection on this idea.  Scroll down to read it!

The Lake Isle of Innisfree (Yeats)

I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree

And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;

Nine bean rows will I have there, a hive for the honey bee,

And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,

Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the crickets sing;

There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,

And evening full of the linnet's wings.

I will arise and go now, for always night and day

I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;

While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements gray,

I hear it in the deep heart's core.