There are days when I feel like a wimp: passing by an open door, unlocked gate, or unsecure fence, telling myself that, if the door is open, it must mean there's someone nearby.

Then there are days, like a Monday evening last May in 'Rotown, when, amazed and grateful, I stroll right in to that condominium construction site through a welcoming gap in its fencing -- expecting at any moment to be shouted at, but hearing nothing but the sounds of my own footsteps up the forty-plus flights of stairs to the rooftop.