I wish there was a word for forgotten beauty. I grew up at the foothills of mountains, but moved abroad into a flat city. Every time I return, my heart aches

I wish there was a word for forgotten beauty. I grew up at the foothills of mountains, but moved abroad into a flat city. Every time I return, my heart aches as I gaze up at the vast towering landscape I grew accustomed to once upon a time, and yet each time I go back to the city, that longing in my heart is just sealed away again