Every time I go to Windermere I am aware of space. The space around me, the space between me and who ever and what ever else is present. There is room at Windermere to walk about and admire constantly changing vistas and views. This is pretty heady stuff for a city boy used to the incessant noise of crowded freeways and continually growing buildings and glowing lights.

But at our ranch above Santa Barbara we can see to the horizon across the ocean or across winter green fields and rolling hills that go on and on. Or how about the night sky where stars gleam with an immediate and proximate shimmer?

I just returned from my annual personal retreat at our ranch where my joint ownership (with all of you) is manifested in