For reasons I cannot explain, I've always stared at maps. When I was a kid, I would spend hours examining the Rand McNally road atlas, to the point where my older brother once took it away and said "It ain't a centerfold, kid." Indeed it is not. My use for a centerfold was a minute and a half, tops. But maps gave hours of fun.
In adulthood this peculiar interest has flourished, thanks to Google maps. Last night I spent hours exploring the northern extremities of Canada, zooming in to street views of roads I shall never take, looking at users' photos of sights I shall never visit. Sure, I could show you photos of the Northern Lights or belugas or a ghost town. But why?
