I caught myself thinking just for a moment this morning: wouldn't it be nice if the world was pulling together in stead of apart? Vestiges of the idealist I have methodically been burying under the sand pile of realism. Appealing, like a breath of fresh air after being in a box all day. Maybe a memory of some lost life time when it was so. Or a whiff of what will one day be, like the first whiff of fall -though still in the swelter of summer. Or just my minds mechanism for holding on to hope.