|Our Lady of Prompt Succor, hasten to help us!|
From Hollygrove to Holy Cross, New Orleans glows. The city radiates a magical aura from the bend in the river to Pontchartrain Park. The sun rises in the east, a flower blossoming. The sun sets in the west, locked away in a tomb. If you can get from the West End to the Lower Ninth Ward in an evening, you will be back again the next day. Desire is a state of mind that has nothing to do with Florida, but plenty to do with sunshine and retiring from the concerns of the workaday world.