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Great artists don’t just show us things. They teach us how to see the world more clearly. To that extent they walk with us, even beyond their own short lives. I was reminded of this the other night.
My wife Caz and I turned onto a path to a park after dropping our girls at choir practice. Despite our proximity to home, I had not been this way before. A wizardly grey heron looked down his beak at us from a breeze-block building, like one of those fake owls to scare seagulls. Then Caz spotted another across the road, perched on a gutter above a bay window. A third, wings a-flap, wobbled along a wall like a tightrope-walker. And still another on the roof line hunched down like a sharp shooter atop a saloon. Keeping an eye out. Watching and waiting.