Cars, when watched from a great distance, appear to move much slower than the truth of it. Like slow-dancing fireflies, they trace out their paths in no great hurry, gliding past the glint and glimmer of street lamps through the hazy curtain.

Trees, when gazed upon closely, are more beautiful than when glimpsed in passing. Every loving bloom, every leaf, every twig and branch, growing from and into one another, make a living collage against the canvas made of blue sky.

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