ABSTRACT
I love to walk: not simply as a way of getting things done, but as a means of finding my bearings in time and space. Walking gives me a perspective on the everyday life of fellow beings different from that glimpsed from moving vehicles. I had awoken this morning eager to start my work; but the sight of breezes lifting the tall skirts of the citronella grasses entices me out of doors. It is, after all, Election Day, 1999.
