When I took this picture I did not notice the little girl standing alone, clutching the fence and looking longingly beyond it like a prison yard denizen.
On the other side is the whirling carousel.
She stands there in every one of my pictures. No adult is in sight on her side of the enclosure.
On the ride a handful of fathers holds their younger children steady, at the ready should the little ones need ballast as they spin around on bright ocean and woodland creatures.
I wonder what the little girl’s story is.