When we just moved to the house where I grew up, the area was still in development. We had an open view of a paddy field to the west and, on clear days, a volcano, Mount Salak, to the north. Unlike regular rice fields, paddy fields are partially flooded. We used to like to take a walk on the walking paths among the paddies and watch the little critters in the water. Mostly frogs and tadpoles, and the odd freshwater fish. It was one of the best memories from my childhood.
My first view of the Canadian Rockies was of Mount Robson in British Columbia. It was the big, towering, snow-capped mountain I’d always imagined any mountains in the Alps to be like, except I was in North America. I was so taken by the view I had tears in my eyes. I have seen more of the Rockies since, but Mount Robson will always have a special place in my heart as my first Rocky Mountain love. (Geographically-speaking, it is also the highest point in the Canadian Rockies.)
When I was at my aunt’s in Wimbledon the year after my mom died, I stayed in the same bedroom my mom had stayed several years prior. When I looked out the window, I saw roofs and chimneys, and when I looked down, the high street. I thought about how my mom would’ve had the same view when she was there. We used to daydream about going to London together. It never happened and never will, but it was comforting to know that at least we had shared the same view of Wimbledon through that window, though at different times.
Where are Doctor Who and his TARDIS when you need them?