You go for a walk some mornings and take your camera not really expecting to find anything to photograph other than the vernacular structures of the neighbourhood, but then, the light hits you. The view is soaked with memories of the prairies and farmhouses and picket fences and clouds breaking up after a stormy night and you can almost smell and taste grandma’s pancakes in the morning. But it’s not the same. There were no cliffs in the distance. No bay with islands and cliffs and seabirds. It is unfamiliar, like nothing I’ve seen before, but tinged with memories of long ago. I’ll take a morning like this every day please.
wonderland randomly occurs when something just adds to my sense of wonder about the world we live in.