The internet is a strange thing.

It's easy to take for granted that we can call up information almost immediately, on any topic we can imagine, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.
And because it's so easy, sometimes you forget that almost all of this information has some sort of emotional context.

Part of a book I'm trying to work on / write / plan out is half based on the tiny village i spent part of my childhood in. It's where my first memories are from, it's where my maternal grandmother lived, and it's the kind of small village that the main character from my book grew up in, left, and has now returned to.

I typed the name into google and did an image search, and amongst all of the maps and navigation images were these:




I think I can see the house where my grandmother lived, and where I spent part of my childhood.

It's strange to be so blase and cynical about the internet on a daily basis, and then to find some little bubble of emotion amongst the noise.