From the otherwise fairly fluffy "I Think I Love You," by Allison Pearson:
"As she gets older, she finds she suffers more from hiraeth; a word with no exact equivalent in English, it means a powerful yearning for the place you came from. She has lived in London longer than she lived in Wales, more than half her life, yet there is some stubborn part of her that prevents her calling this city home. The hiraeth feels like an extra muscle of the heart that contracts painfully whenever she thinks of the hills and of the rain falling in a curtain over the sea."
Or the creeks, the lazy hills, limestone, fireflies, sassafras, flagrant trees.