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  • I think best while walking.

    Somehow, the tangle of my mind unsnarls with movement, a little distraction for my body, a sense of forward motion. The downside: I can be so firmly in myself that I barely notice what I'm passing by. What little pieces of afternoon beauty get missed, what reminders that the world is constantly generating new sources of wonder?

    It was a Wednesday afternoon, calm and cold. I was trying sort out the frame of a story for work, my head in a city thousands of miles away. And, crossing the railroad bridge over the river, I happened to glance upwards.

    Sitting motionless, like ornaments on the steel trusses of the bridge, were dozens and dozens of birds.

    I was so surprised and pleased by them that I gave a small shout. There was no one nearby to share them with, this ordinary miracle of birds, so easily missed.
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