At airports time stands still, is suspended. You are between leaving and arriving, somewhere between coming and going. You feel important. Why else would you be dressed up, rushing around trying not to look conspicuous? Anonymity is another common possession. That makes people watching extra interesting as you wonder what is taking that person from somewhere to somewhere else. Tonight the port is empty, almost. Some of the only patrons are a family of birds that make the architecture their home. The Multi-million $ structure never knew it would house a squadron of chickadees and the cleaning staff never thought it would have to scrub the droppings of God's carefree creatures! Oh look! The clock strikes 3:23 a.m. and the check-in begins... There is no point to this blog entry, other than the fact that people don't live in airports, they just pass through and in the 21st Century, in a wifi world, bloggers post quirky notes.