After wandering for years in The Wilderness, I found myself searching for my own "Idea of Order at Key West," a spiritual journey for which the southern-most city in the Continental United States is so aptly suited. I was returning from a walk to the White Street Pier, a sterile block of concrete jutting into the turquoise Atlantic, when I noticed one of those mirrors drivers use to see around blind driveways. I liked the way the mirror's reflection of trees rested in the branches of more trees. I also like how Key West reminds me so much of Saigon, a place I haven't visited in thirty-four years.