nunoncastors

A lot of people let their imagination die as they grow older; they stifle it with reason and experience until there’s nothing left inside but the dim memories of youth and quiet echoes of the fantastic. I imagine I’m no different really, but I like to think that my imagination has held up well, that where other people may see only a ruined wall and an old gate, I can still sometimes see the remains of a fortress and the walls of a forgotten kingdom.

It’s a childish conceit, I know, but when lakes contain sunken cities and woods hide marvellous beasts, the world’s a more interesting place. Trust me, I know.