People and places

I wonder if there is a magic in the spirit of places, streets or cities, some grow deep roots in people's soles. What is this magic? Does it come from the solid constructed soil and sand, the metals and the shiny glassy walls? Or it comes from us; human beings and the events that take place there?
I am standing in a corner, in Washington square, NYC; watching the crowd, it moves like a giant wave. I spot Jeremy and Simon among the crowd. Jeremy is a tourist from San Francisco. He was rubbed last night by a group of youngsters, right there. He hates that spot, even Manhattan and the big apple. And Simon is walking there too. He is a New Yorker. He used to love Washington square, because he met Angela in the same spot five years ago. She was his greatest love ever. But they broke up three years later. He was in pain and sorrow for a long time. It took him more than two years to get over her. Since then this monument reminds him Angela and the grief he went through.

But we know that Washington square has been the same for decades, no matter who is passing by or how we feel about it.