...my favourite place can't be found on a map. The CIA's satellites haven't tracked it down yet. My favourite place moves as the times change; it has travelled a continent for many an aeon, and though those it touches wait with eager anticipation for its arrival, few bother to follow it on its elusive journey. I like to think that my favourite place has a sense of humour, with its different guises and appearances every time I visit. Once it showed itself through a leafy Michigan suburb, and on another occasion it materialised as a firework forest. ..
