Peter breaks through

"Of course the Neverlands vary a good deal. John's, for instance, had a lagoon with flamingoes flying over it at which John was shooting, while Michael, who was very small, had a flamingo with lagoons flying over it. John lived in a boat turned upside down on the sands, Michael in a wigwam, and Wendy in a house of leaves deftly sewn together. John had no friends; Michael had friends at night; and Wendy had a pet wolf forsaken by it's parents; but on the whole the Neverlands have a family resemblance and if they stood still in a row you could say of them that they have each other's nose and so forth. On these magic shores children are forever beaching their coracles. We too have been there; we can still hear the sound of the surf, though we shall land no more."
--J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan and Wendy 

I am quite grown up, yet I feel as if I stepped into Neverland one early morning. Perhaps weekends are small windows in time in which Peter can perch on the sill for a small while, even when we are old, or perhaps I have long forgotten the true appearance of the Neverlands. And though I saw pirates and Indians, though Wendy wore her night dress, and though my camera captured what appeared to be the twinkling of fairies, perhaps my feet never touched the island and I heard only the crashing waves in the distance. But when I am with young children and time pauses, I feel Peter breaking through for them and the mere sound of the surf on the shores of Neverland is joy enough for me.