Wonderland.

Although I'm a transplant from Texas, I do have one close family member up here in Yankee territory. My great uncle - UG - grew up in Chicago and relocated to New York City after graduating with his law degree at an early age.

Everything about him amazes me - his lifestyle, the decorous way in which he conducts himself, his hobbies and interests, the places he's been and the things he's accomplished - to me, his life has been, and continues to be, the stuff of novels.

He even has the penultimate "meet-cute" story, and was with his significant other until an unexpected bout with cancer crept up on them. Because our family had a complicated relationship with UG throughout most of my childhood, regrettably, we weren't close with him until I moved to New York almost three years ago. Consequently, I never got to meet UG's S.O. - something that profoundly saddens me.

Making up for lost time has proven a bit uncomfortable at times, but we've managed to resurrect a solid foundation from the broken pieces of our family tree. UG currently lives upstate near the New York/ Connecticut/ Massachusetts border in a 200 year old farmhouse, which he refurbished himself. I visit him once every few months or so, which doesn't sound often enough I suppose.

Jumping on Metro North, watching the buildings grow smaller and farther apart until they dissipate into hillside and trees, is like a slow-motion version of falling down the rabbit hole.

And when the journey comes to an end, I too, emerge in a forest - a forest of antique Chippendale, sterling silver, and fine bone china. No need to paint the roses red, as they already are. There's even a Cheshire cat (or two) to be found.

During my last visit, I was roused at 3 AM by booming thunderclaps, I sat up and watched as a fantastic rural light show played across the window-panes, ushering in droplets of rain in droves. The rain pitter-pattered against the house, staccato, the sound conjuring images of toy soldiers marching in formation across the creaky wooden floorboards.

Sitting in the garden the next morning, we watched the sun reach down and kiss sparkling blossoms and blades of grass. Listened to bullfrogs harrumph loudly before abandoning the tops of lily pads for cool depths of pond. Spied turtles stoically poised atop partly submerged roots.

Later that afternoon, we headed to Innisfree, where I decided that my camera and I could spend many happy hours on end.

Trudging back to the train to leave a world of quiet green peace, gourmet dinners, and fleeting glimpses into UG's fabulous formative years is always a melancholy affair. While it's hard to leave the City behind some weekends, I'm always glad that I have,as UG just may be the most adorable man on the face of the planet.

I often find myself awed and amazed that I'm related to this man.

This is my version of Wonderland.