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Winter Mirages
I think it is one of the strangest of awkward everyday experiences -- though perhaps more 'everyday' for those of us who are near-sighted and dreamy-headed than for normal people -- when you are walking along and see someone walking towards you who you think you know, maybe, but you're not sure ... and so you stare at them and try not to stare at them, and look a bit furtive, for several paces, until you are close enough to see that you've been staring at a total stranger, and try to casually look away as you pass by, hoping they don't think you're some sort of psychopath. Or maybe it's just me.
In any case, I had an especially strange instance of the above situation yesterday. I was walking across a little park, covered in bright and glaring snow in the hour before twilight (in that cloudy wintery sort of light, where the sun hasn't set yet but you have no idea where it is) when a man turned onto the path who had a gait that was a precise match for Russell -- first love, turbulent ex and oldest friend -- and for ten or fifteen seconds, staring and not staring at this heavily bundled-up young man ambling through the snow, I had a flash of impossible recognition for my friend who is 4,000 miles across the Atlantic.
In any case, I had an especially strange instance of the above situation yesterday. I was walking across a little park, covered in bright and glaring snow in the hour before twilight (in that cloudy wintery sort of light, where the sun hasn't set yet but you have no idea where it is) when a man turned onto the path who had a gait that was a precise match for Russell -- first love, turbulent ex and oldest friend -- and for ten or fifteen seconds, staring and not staring at this heavily bundled-up young man ambling through the snow, I had a flash of impossible recognition for my friend who is 4,000 miles across the Atlantic.
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