Wonder-struck, sandwich in hand, I found myself rooted to the sidewalk on 5th Avenue and Olive. In the pink sky heralding nightfall, a circus troupe of smallish birds wove ribbons among the LegoLand blocks of concrete and glass. As if of one mind, they gracefully looped into two separate swirling spheres, circling each other, before pulling back into one elongated mass, a flowing ellipsis of feathers. They performed this routine in near silence, uninterrupted by my rapt attention or the flashing lights and whistling brakes of downtown traffic. It was one bird, one moment, one single existence. I watched for an hour, little crunched-up bits of peanut butter clinging to the roof of my mouth, until the darkness finally swallowed the birds.