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323 Flyover Romping across my lawn, a pair of teenage deer outprance each other to the street. After they’ve trotted off, the lawn invites me to enjoy its weedlessness. The calla lilies aim their yellow bugles at the sun. Azaleas, irises and tulips flaunt their blooms in every color but black. A robin, three sparrows and a wren compete in birdsong with the caw and cackle of a single crow. Why is it then that batteries in both my hearing aids announce they’re shutting down? Or someone I have never met will phone me, ask if I’m Sam and urge me to prevent extinction of the apes in Zanzibar? Or trios of fighter jets in arrowhead formations, wing to wing, will thunder overhead and spoil the perfect silence of the sky. ...

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