2 Distractions

0. Our meeting.

He came from out of town. From north of the border. From a land where summer had long since gone. He seemed to have brought some of his Canadian weather with him, because it was cold outside, although the sun was shining brightly.

We met in a small room (with too many chairs in it). It was a corner room with floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out on the parking lot and across to the railroad tracks.

1. A distraction.

We were writing on the whiteboard or talking on the phone to someone else a long way away or something like that. And the ground began to rumble and shake. His eyes widened, and he looked at us.

What is that, an airplane? he asked as he turned his head to look outside.

We didn't know what he was talking about at first. We looked out the window and saw four Union Pacific diesel-electric locomotives rolling northward. And we laughed. We don't even hear those trains, anymore.

2. Another distraction.

Later in the day, when we came back from lunch, we picked up where we had left off. We were in the same room. We were writing again on the whiteboard or on a pad of paper on a big easel or something like that.

He leaned back and stretched. And as he did, two dozen or so jet black birds landed on the grass just outside the window. Their motion caught his eye, and he turned to look.

Big crows, eh? he said with a startled look on his face.

We laughed. We don't even think twice about the grackles, anymore.

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