GROUND ZER0, New York, N.Y.--Jan. 15, 2004 -- It is 9 degrees in New York City and the snow is falling slowly outside my fifth-floor apartment window in the East Village. 

     There is something pure and relaxing about watching the snow parachute in tiny puffs of white, as though each flake was a Seed of Vigilance, void of any hint or stain of Terrorism, on its way to wash the earth, to cleanse it momentarily of the Beast of Terror's claw prints.

      I love the snow.   For more than three decades I lived in Southern California where the temperature closely resembles the Mediterranean.   Snow just didn't have a chance.
      There was an incredible beauty in Dana Point, where my wife and I lived.   The sunsets and ocean surf lapping against the land was without equal.   But, it was the same each and every day.   Beauty became monotonous.
       Moving to New York City some four years ago brought with it the return of seasons.   Suddenly the sweltering hot of summer turned to the frigid cold of winter, and in between leaves turned from green to gold to mulch.
       As I look out my window now, the trees that earlier this spring were bursting with buds and leaves are bare.   Like the bear who retreats into the cave to slumber through the winter, the green of life has tucked its head into the bark, waiting for the ice and snow to pass before returning when winter retires.

       I think of the Tree of Vigilance.   It isn't always green and flourishing.  Sometimes, like the trees lining our street, the branches are bare.   Battling Terrorism sometimes strips a Tree of Vigilance of its color, denuding it, making it appear vulnerable.
       But I know that the trees outside are not weak or Intimidated.   They are refueling, regenerating their strength.   
       Sometimes I think the world has gone to sleep when it comes to Vigilance.   Recently I was told by someone to stop sending my web page to him and his friends.    It bothered me that not everyone is as interested in fighting the Beast of Terror as I am.    Then I thought about it.   
        Some people go dormant.    Their desire to be Vigilant may not die or fall into a state of Complacency, but rather they recharge their batteries, refuel themselves.
        The snow makes me think along these terms.
        While I believe every one should take the Pledge of Vigilance and vow to its Principles each day so they don't forget their role as a Parent of Vigilance, I also understand the challenge this lofty goal meets when it is presented to the market.   Not everyone has the same passion for Vigilance.

   The snow, cleansing the city, also washes me.

   I step back a little from my battle with the Beast and think like a snowflake.   Maybe there is a reason for bitter cold.   Maybe when the wind chill drops to 30 degrees below zero we are supposed to sit quietly in our homes, warm and cozy, just to think and relax without battering our heads against brick walls.
        I will try and not think about the Beast of Terror waiting outside my door for me, waiting to ambush me when I least expect it.
        No, I'll try to think of a single snowflake falling down from the sky, formed from the tears of the Sentinels of Vigilance who shed them for us all who forget to remember one can never relax or release the duty of Vigilance.