Blessed Silo Sometimes - sometimes, mind you - I think it's better not to know. I don't know what is in the silo. I don't know why the light chose that moment to shine through the clouds on it. I don't know why the light appeared while I was sitting on a bench facing the silo at Point Pleasant Park yesterday, across the harbour. All I know is it was a striking sight to see. From there on, it's just invested with mystery. A mystery you don't have to solve. You just sit there feeling it. It feels marvelous.