It's been nearly a year since we parted in this space. I left you in these pages with the words of the poet George Gordon, aka Lord Byron, where he said, "So we'll go no more a roving, so late into the night; though the heart be still as loving, and the moon be still as bright."
It's a rolling stone that gathers no moss. "For the sword outwears its sheath, and the soul wears out the breast. The heart must pause to breathe, and love itself have rest."