Consider these ruins atop the Rock of Cashel in Ireland. After I snapped this shot, I lowered the camera and though I stood among several other tourists, I was all alone. My mind whirled through the ruins, searched over the landscape like a bloodhound led by a scent. Hubby had to touch my shoulder to break my reverie because I wasn't there. I was watching ghosts of the past fit together chiseled stones and build walls without mortar.
You see? I'm hopeless. Ever the dreamer, I never know when it will hit. And it doesn't take far away places to send me into my own little world.
The sight of my granddaughter singing her heart out at the Christmas play triggered visions of a self-assured young woman waiting in the future.
Her serious admonition while singing this song showed me the headstrong side to the young lady coming in the years ahead.
Sights? Sounds? Scents? What sends YOU into a dream?