Perhaps it's because in the summer we get out and really look around. Perhaps it's a holdover from the excitement of childhood summer vacations. Invariably, about this time of year, we start thinking about how much the places we have lived and visited mean to us. Places nourish us, the psalmist reminds us. The Lord’s green pastures and still waters restore the soul.

Finding our place in the world, enjoying its bounties, celebrating its wonders, and giving thanks for its gifts are all necessary steps on a spiritual journey. Consciously acknowledging our relationship to places is a discipline that enables us to recognize that the ground upon which we stand is, as God told Moses, holy. Here’s how we practice this thought.

Some places just feel like home. We feel deeply connected to a particular landscape. Mary Ann loves big sky and wide open spaces, a legacy of having grown up in a small town on the prairie. Fred is very fond of cities. We have lived in Manhattan 10 blocks south of the Empire State Building for 30 years now and in the city for 40. Walking through many parts of this metropolis, we are flooded with memories of a movie seen here, a dinner out with friends there, a conversation in that park, a premier of a play or a concert in that row of buildings now vacated.

This reverie usually calls forth a prayer of gratitude to God for providing such a rich reservoir of experiences in this unusual place. We're thankful for the opportunities that have made it possible for us to support ourselves here. We recall the challenges we’ve faced that have become lessons, and the many gifts that have come to us as moments of grace. We conclude that we are meant to be here in New York.

You might practice this kind of connection with the place where you live. Walk around your neighborhood alone or with someone who has shared time there with you. Stop at a corner and see what memories come to you. Before you move on, say a prayer of thanksgiving for one thing that happened in that place. Then move on to another spot and continue your reverie and gratitude prayer.

Expand this exercise by recalling another place that has special meaning for you. It could your childhood home, a favorite vacation spot, where you went to school, where you met your partner, etc. Ask yourself, what is it about this place that I find so attractive and nurturing?

Fred made a pilgrimage back to Wauwatosa, Wisconsin, where he lived as a boy. He realized that his favorite place was inside the house — a secret hideaway under the stairs to the basement where he used to retreat to gather his thoughts. This he took as a reminder of how important it is for him to find places for solitude and silence.

Although she couldn’t travel there, Mary Ann recalled her high school years living in Karachi, Pakistan, where her father was teaching in a medical school. It would have been easy to live in a foreign enclave and ignore the culture around them, but her family made a real effort to learn about that place and visit some out-of-the-way spots — the old bazaar where Europeans didn’t usually go, the downtown meat market, the mud-hut camps that circled the city. They used to say that every time they left the house in Karachi, they saw something that they had never seen before. That place, then, reinforced her belief that if you remain open to new experiences, if you are willing to go off the beaten path, you will often be surprised by grace.

Poet and naturalist Wendell Berry once said, “This place, if I am to live well in it, requires and deserves a lifetime of the most careful attention.” The key word there is attention. Really get to know the place where you live during the remaining days of summer. Ask yourself in the morning, what will my attention bring me today? By the evening, you will see that it is holy.