Every now and then life hands you a perfect moment, one of those spaces of time when everything stops, turns beautifully epiphanic, and suddenly you find yourself babbling the goofy prose found in that Shirley MacLaine tree-climbing book. I have had a few perfect moments: watching the sun set in the Canadian wilderness while a loon crooned; rattling the windowpanes with Beethoven's 9th; unfolding that first... More >>>