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Joy in the Middle

While biking on vacation, I came to this scene by the water’s edge which seemed to have leapt right out of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s Great Gatsby .  Was it a photo shoot or just folks aiming to have a special picnic? I didn’t know but there was no photographer at the time, and I wondered if one had already come and gone. I stopped my bike briefly to take a picture. I assumed if you staged this elaborate a picnic in a public place that you expected other folks might document the occasion. But then someone else rolled up—a guy on a mower just doing his job that morning. I hadn’t noticed before, but he was cutting concentric circles around the picknickers. They didn’t budge. The mower kept getting closer, but they had their plan, and they were going to enjoy their time maybe thinking it wouldn’t matter if the grass in that area was a couple of inches longer than the rest of the lawn. Perhaps they were celebrating something or someone special. Finally, the mower left. Sometimes it’s

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