There are places, quiet places ringed around with time. Still standing, still. Quiet backwaters of places that are hidden just out of sight. A thousand cars pass before even one person notices a cream-colored building and says, "What do you suppose that is?"
And what that is opens the door to the past where those who made the buildings and peace that surrounds live still, working, living, loving, moving forward, carrying on their shoulders the quiet they have built--building a barrier so that the highway does not intrude even when one stands close.
The still pool that is the Koreshan Unity with its Planetary House, its rectiliniator, and its Fort-Myers-beach triumph which showed the world how turned in upon itself it was--how really very closed the universe is calms and cools. Inviting the weary traveler to "jest set a spell" and see what time has fashioned.
And looking into the house where the Planetary Court ruled, serene, matronly, ordering all things in the community and directing its work, its recreation, its contribution to the world at large--a door into everywhere opening in a field--opening up the treasures of the past and quieting the dread of the day. The gift of peace and slow silence. The still of the night in the brightness of day. The slow bell tolls to call to dinner and each ring moves out to be quickly muffled in the vast green and in the buildings still standing, still breathing the past and distilling it into the present. The still of time, the door into everywhere.
