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It is Tuesday, my third day in Switzerland on my current business trip. I am slightly fatigued but not due to jet lag, fatigued because I was up late enjoying the companionship of workmates, workmates that are also friends. People are a big part, the primary component to what makes work more than a job, more than a way to make a living.
Sitting on a bench outside my hotel, I am surround by a good many birds that seem to be enjoying the Spring day as much as I am. Their voices, to me, are unfamiliar, as indecipherable to as the German language spoken by the inhabitants of this little hamlet, save for the crow sporadically calling from the line of trees that cast long shadows in the setting sun, in the shadows where a bright white cat, white as my hair will one day become, prowling the hillside whose start white coat contrasts against the brown leaves, remnants of the previous Autumn days.
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And that is exactly what I am doing. I am sitting on this long wooden bench allowing the sun to bathe my face in light, basking in a warmth I desperately missed during the winter months. Listening to the bird song, the fading purr of a motorcycle engine, the animated voices of men deep in discussion, thinking fondly of my blessed life, thankful to have people in my life that I love and who love me, just relaxing and enjoying that peaceful easy feeling.
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