number. Roerich claimed the trio of dots in a circle were church, science and art held within infinity. Maybe if I was up at Everest base camp and I saw them daubed on a rock I’d feel the same way? The three ages, the unwritten trilogy, three-piece rock bands always the best, triangles as cornerstone of geometry and Ruskin, three fingers of whisky, my past present and future, here there and everywhere as I pad out for my morning coffee. And three Norns spinning those threads of fate.
