I stood in the tenth floor kitchen pouring myself a cup of tea. The sun outside was bright, the lake glittering like distant diamonds. It occurred to me then that, when I stood on high rock, I was probably higher up than standing in that kitchen by the window. And there was no elevator up to the top of High Rock.

Where do you suppose I would rather be? Where do you suppose anyone would probably rather be?

I’m not crazy… I’m just aware.