I opened this children’s book to a random page and there was a colorful drawing of a girl climbing over the fence of an amusement park that sat beside a small lake. The wooden fence meandered along the shore to the spot where she climbed in the foreground; the Ferris wheel there, spinning off the edge of the page. In the background, amongst all of the other rides, there was a huge animatronic dinosaur tethered with ropes or wires. The text in the bottom corner explained the scene. It said that the girl was fighting some monster and she recalled seeing the same creature in that theme park many years ago.
I was more fascinated by the picture, however. I felt like I could stare at it for hours, like a childhood memory, the endless details of the park and the rides, the games and concessions, the people gaping at the towering toy dinosaur, holding cotton candy and pointing up with their free hands, the watercolor lake tapering off into yellow paper nothingness, the pastel boats floating aimlessly. I felt like I was poised at the edge of an adventure or closing the book at the end of a long rainy day.