I am sitting on my balcony overlooking the Reading Abbey ruins and marveling at my good fortune. What beauty! But what is good fortune? Anything that comes your way that you manage to survive so as to be able to tell about it? Is this beauty any different than that of the Julian Alps seen through the helicopter window on my way to the hospital in Udine two summers ago? But does this not mean that my good fortune is bound to follow me to the end? Except that I will not be able to tell about it…