I have been aware for many years now that the California I grew up and fell in love with is constantly changing and being blighted through development under the guise of progress.
People tend to be proud of where they live or come from; New Yorkers are proud of the pace and rythm of their city. The eastern sea board is proud of the maritime heritage and scholary lineage of their schools. Texans are proud of their space and their boots; Bostonians their shitty hardcore music and the Red Sox. These things tend to build a sense of place and comfort in a person. The sights and sounds and smells of a place will take one back to their childhood or a certain part of their lives that has special meaning.
The smell of the ocean in the morning or a fog hanging low over the streets in the early evening tend to do this for me. It’s like walking through a crowd and smelling the perfume your mother wore when you were a child.