swesdome Wisdom is the compass by which man is to steer  across the trackless waste of life;  without it he is a derelict vessel,  the sport of winds and waves.   Charles Haddon Spurgeon Amazing the view from one side of Lake Junaluska to the other, that is at nine o'clock in the morning. At seven, you could scarcely see the wood planked footbridge and the mountains were nowhere to be found. The fog was thick as pea soup in London on a good day. You could hear the ducks on the lake, but you couldn't see them, the Canadian geese dared not attempt their early morning practice run, and the swans were still wrapped in their own wings until wake-up call—at the lifting of the fog. In essence, Junaluska, early of a morning is the epitome of the poem, like the life of man without wisdom— trackless waste. No compass could intervene. Except for the tops of our tennis shoes, we might as well have been blind and if we had tried this on tempestuous sea