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  • Oh, the frequency with which I find myself trapped inside a moving vehicle, looking out only to glimpse something truly lovely that I'll likely never see again. I want to stop the bus, to jump off and read the little placard, to happen upon the creators in a stroke of sheer luck and to wave the rest of the group on to continue to their scheduled flag monument visit or whatever such thing, while I stay and learn the whole story behind each piece, behind each person behind each piece. I want to become the little plant so skillfully growing on top for a month or two, and to overhear the conversations that happen all around this wall each day. Yet, the bus moves on, and so I just have this picture instead. Someday, maybe, I'll figure out this tourism thing.
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