little things for big places: Before this destination, on the other side of a tough wide ocean, before fire, before they needed hand signals or birds to fly messages, they spent their days and nights on streets filled only rarely with troubles. Streets filled with dice throwing, girls eating strawberries in doorways, church steeples, jokes, the back firing of motors. On Sundays they gathered and read psalms, ate spaghetti Bolognese. At night, when the sun moved elsewhere, they went calmly to sleep, knowing the light would come again, predictably, easily, soon enough. On these streets they moved whenever they wanted and with little thought to how free and easy moving came. And when it was less than just right, they knew right would come soon enough.