Here is an example of the funny way the mind sometimes has of leaping from one place to another.   I stopped writing just now, for just a moment to make a cup of tea, and just as I sat back down the very first image that popped into my head was a morning about five years ago and, going out one Sunday morning to get some milk from the nearby shop, I saw flowers laid out on the pavement at the corner.  A young man had inexplicably driven his car off the road, over the pavement and into a brick wall and was killed.  He wasn’t drunk, there was nothing wrong with the brakes or the steering and, according to the local paper later in the week he wasn’t suicidal.  But he was dead.  This sudden memory has absolutely nothing to do with what I am writing about.  I wasn’t thinking about cars, death, young men or flowers while I was making my cup of tea.  Maybe in a couple of years I might suddenly realise that having this thought at this moment was very significant indeed but right now I don’t think there is any connection at all. It might be good to know.