When you were smaller then the length of your mother's arm, you would close your eyes and place your index finger squarely on the map. You drew wild concentric circles, blindly cutting across the Pacific Ocean, sweeping through the Russian wheat fields, around the icy hills of Greenland, and into the green bays of Africa. After a deep breath you opened your eyes to your next adventure, and you would fly as far as your imagination could carry you to the unknown places on your tattered map. Every carefully drawn line looping around an pronounceable capital city was a mysterious story waiting to be told. Waiting for an explorer like you to tell it. Back then you were fearless and unstoppable. You could conquer the world you held folded in your back pocket so many years ago, when the world still had a few secrets left to tell.