Satrap of Saturn

Lexington is a small city in the heart of the bluegrass. When I say small, I mean small by the megapolitan standards of the present titanic world: a bare quarter million souls or so. Compare classical Athens or Florence, forty or sixty thousand strong, that created arts, sciences, and culture to endure centuries. Our present era makes us larger in numbers, in mass, in reverberations of one active voice against the past, and smaller, more self-similar to our hordes of contemporaries than the past. My world was the library, my imagination, my drawings and creations, and my church. These spheres gave me expansion and constriction. To the library fell the exemplars of knowledge across some dozen spheres. (More, of course, were available, but I did not avail myself of much more beyond kids' books, atlases, sharks & lesser domains of archaeology, gemstones & lesser crystals, geography, geology, weapons, sea-ships, rocket ships, astronomy, classical monsters, and mythology.) Fr