Interludes Across The River
I have these recurring dreams. I am in another land.
It is somewhere across a river - and I have arrived there via a network of tunnels. Some locals refer to the place as New Amsterdam or Manna-Hata.
Click on images to enlarge.
Perhaps these are not dreams - perhaps flawed recollections - source-monitoring errors.
I wander around, always with a certain sense of déjà vu, taking in the many wonders there are to behold. Quite often these memories include eating at a place named Joe's, pizza slices that seem the best I've ever had. That was the case today.
Eventually I somehow end up back in Brooklyn, home, conjuring up these adventures. Occasionally my camera contains images that must be from this Other Place.
It is somewhere across a river - and I have arrived there via a network of tunnels. Some locals refer to the place as New Amsterdam or Manna-Hata.
Click on images to enlarge.
Perhaps these are not dreams - perhaps flawed recollections - source-monitoring errors.
I wander around, always with a certain sense of déjà vu, taking in the many wonders there are to behold. Quite often these memories include eating at a place named Joe's, pizza slices that seem the best I've ever had. That was the case today.
Eventually I somehow end up back in Brooklyn, home, conjuring up these adventures. Occasionally my camera contains images that must be from this Other Place.
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