Doves in flight--odd or evening?

What's the difference between a dove and a dovecote?

As I was running to the 3 sycamores today, I saw more doves on the wires than I have ever seen in one place. Like all non-raptor birds, as I ran they would fly a couple of poles down, then again, and again before finally giving up and going somewhere I can't get close to them. It did indeed induce a sense of peace, as doves are known to do--and they were entirely silent in their flight.

But it brought to mind that words are not the same as communication, and communication has a subset called clarity. Silence speaks louder than words oftimes, less is more, etc.

So I must in a way repent of "many words" in many contexts, and a stream of consciousness approach foisted on my friends, like Dennis who observed that I (I wasn't trying Dennis, honestly) was pretty hard to follow. (not really intended either) But I take take no comfort in what I might say, "Well, that's just the way I am." uttered with the utter confidence of a prophet, implying the corollary, "And I'm agonna stay that way too!"

(Hint: never tell God what you will never do)

I think my "style" is just that; and like one of the many old shoes that I am loathe to give up because it's so comfortable. In fact, I would say my style is quite out of style because it reeks of nostalgia for my childhood, and has many obscure and sometimes pleasant associations that are frankly opaque to even my closest friends. It is, at times, "sentimental existentialism"--which sounds oxymoronic, but is actually the primary existentialism of our time--meaning now, and world-wide.

God does not do nostalgia.



"Here the MS breaks off", and toad tracks begin. ("O bloody 'ell!)