And I, like millions of mankind, walk and move, generally by force of habit,
in a long caravan that ascends and descends, encamps, and then proceeds on
its way. Life in this caravan is not altogether bad. You no doubt are aware
of this. The going may be hard by day, the wilderness sweeping out before us
like shoreless seas; we pour with sweat, our throats pare parched with
thirst, and we reach the frontier beyond which we think we cannot go. Then
the sun sets, the air grows cool, and millions of stars twinkle in the sky.
We eat and drink and the singer of the caravan breaks into song. Some of us
pray in a group, others form ourselves into circles to dance and sing and
clap. Above us the sky is warm and compassionate. Sometimes we travel by
night for as long as we have a mind to, and when the white thread is
distinguished from the black we say, 'When dawn breaks the travelers are
thankful that they have journeyed by night.' If occasionally we are deceived
by a mirage, and if our heads, feverish from the action of heat and thirst,
sometimes bubble with ideas devoid of any basis of validity, no harm is
done. The specters of night dissolve with the dawn, the fever of the day is
cooled by the night breeze. Is there any alternative?

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"j" ganz @@
www.sailnow.com