Holiday weekend.

Small birds are tumbling out of the air to land in the dust that the construction workers left behind. Taking turns, they hop into a depression left by a truck's wheel and flap their little wings, covering their bodies with fine gray dust. The church nearby starts it call to the faithful, six different bell tones ringing chaotically at a quarter to the hour. There are new flags on every building. I only noticed them early on the morning after Liberation Day, as I was walking home listening to the sparrows start singing for the second time this week. They will catch the wind until Thursday and then will be packed carefully away until June.

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