When I do business travel, I frequently don't have time to stop and see things. So I must take my pleasures in small, incidental bursts. This morning as we landed in Charleston, WV, the trees are a burst of color just like a picture postcard. Today I drive on down south, and will get to drink in Fall color like a thirsty man drinks water. Last night by coincidence the only interesting book at the SF bookstore was Homer Hickam's Sky of Stone, an absolutely entrancing autobiographical novel, all about the region of the country to which, by chance, I am driving today. It all fits together somehow, even if only in my mind.