Narnia

C.S. Lewis knew that the most magical things are found in the most ordinary places. A wardrobe. A spare room. A window.

Here, two great peacocks fill the world beyond the glass — one deep violet, one blazing gold — moving through arches and blossoming trees as if they have always been there, as if this is simply how things are on the other side. Small figures stand on the windowsill below, looking out. They are not sure what they are seeing. They are not sure which world is the real one.

Neither are we.

This is not Lewis's Narnia illustrated — it is the feeling of it. That particular sensation of pressing your face to the glass and suspecting, just for a moment, that the world out there is more alive than the one you are standing in.