In the rare times when I've not been within a few kilometres of the sea, I've had this same feeling of looking around, not being sure what was missing.

Apparently other things can take the place, with the mind (or is it the spirit) accepting one thing as a replacement for another. Mountains come to mind. Lakes and rivers, too, plus geologic formations. People tell me that these sorts of things can take the place of the sea.

But the prairie, the vast prairie? To me, at least, the challenge of adjusting to the prairie would require replacing something with nothing. I can see how people would theorize that moving to the prairie could break one's spirit.

I'd love to hear how prairie folks feel when they move near the sea, or to a spot within sight of the mountains. Perhaps the anisotropy of view and mobility starts to gnaw at them.

I moved from the greatest of the plains to the mountains, having now lived in the southern and northern Rockies. Counterintuitively, my world became much much larger after discovering topography.

With no large geographic reference point your experienced world becomes only what you can see to the horizon, often blocked by crops or a section treeline. 3-5 miles out, 8 if you find a hill. And, since it's all patchwork rural farmland, every place you go outside of this radius feels the same. You've seen it before; it's just a rearranging of the same stock roads, treelines, fields, fences, and farm equipment.

Moving to the mountains ruined me for the plains. In a ten-minute walk I can observe a river valley unfold below me with my view uninterrupted until the next mountain group 40 miles away. Ten minutes in the opposite direction and I'm climbing to the top of the world. In the mountains there is always something new to see and another incredible nook to find just around the bend. The topography brings a sense of scale that constantly reminds me just how big and exciting the world actually is.

I have lived most of my life on the great plains and while I don't know of sea or mountain, I have lived a few years in a forested area and I felt twinges of claustrophobia the whole time. No farms, no horizons anywhere - just trees. Not for me.

I dunno, I love the wide openness of it. The wind trying to push you around. The rolling clouds, the dark skies. Try and live on the western edge of small town - even better if you're on a slight rise. You get a sunset every day, cloud watching on a stormy day feels very pagan, and every day smells ever so slightly different.

I moved to Minnesota 20-odd years ago, having always lived near the sea. It took a lot of contemplation before I made the move, exactly for that reason. I think it was such a complete change of environment -- I moved here knowing absolutely no one, and not even where I would live -- that adjusting to the new place, meeting people, starting a new job so completely distracted me that it took a while before it sunk in that I couldn't just be on the beach in 15 minutes. It was disorienting, but far less than I expected it to be. I still miss the sea but it's more of a distant longing now.