A few weeks ago I packed up Bluella, my VW Golf, and headed to my sister’s in Alpharetta, Georgia. Once I’d left Chicago behind, I settled into that “on the road” groove where the mind can wander with fewer distractions than in our day-to-day comings and goings, or even in other forms of travel. Coming around a curve, I’d see how the light was filtering through a dense set of trees. Glancing over, I’d see a church sheltered by a hillside. Not sure why these images resonate, but somehow they