Here is an old saying that maintains, “Truth is stranger than fiction.” It often seems to be the case. I am not talking about tabloid stories which are both strange and factious. Nature itself can provide us strange occurrences which were once the stock material for circus side shows. At an earlier time people would be willing to part with a dime to see a two-headed calf or a bearded lady. Along with the fakes there were real occurrences. I find it irritating when a story writer backs themselves into a corner and escape the literary trap by bringing a miracle in at the last minute, but I admit it sometimes happens that way in real life. While we have a handle on many important things, there is still a lot of mystery in life. There is much we still cannot understand. While I will always strive to figure out the mysteries of our lives, I am content to live and work in the midst of mystery. I love having answers to some questions, but I am content with the realization that there is much I do not understand. How dull life must be for those who have all the answers. I like the tingle of the unexpected, the shiver of the new adventure, the thrill of future possibilities, the new that still awaits us. After my last breath of life, I want my first breath of new life to be “Okay, What’s next?”