There are places that matter, sites of consecration and meaning, both natural and human, that possess, through the alchemy of time and memory, a holiness: very old churches, ancient baseball stadiums, certain groves of trees on certain campuses, The Romans called it genius loci, the spirit that inhabits the earth and and air of a place.

There are places and there are also nonplaces, forgotten or ignored or transformed by human progress into blindspots of experience where nobody wants to be, like the landscaping in front of a burger king. The expansive lot with the FIREWORKS billboard off the interstate was a non-place, which is perhaps why I was so irresistibly drawn to it.

Despite all I’ve read in place and landscape over the last few years, somehow this essay, Christmas in the Moon, is the first time I came across the idea of a genius loci. From what I can tell, the Romans thought of genius loci as something of a deity, whereas modern usage refers more generally to the feeling of a place. The essay is interesting because it explores a non-place, a fireworks lot off an interstate at Christmas time, a place that presumably lacks a genius loci. But I wonder if its more accurate to state that no place lacks a genius loci, but instead, a different genius loci may be present depending on how we as humans treat and inhabit a space.