The fly buzzed in circles around my head as I stepped out of my house. A heavy sign of disapproval had been placed above me, like a thousand tiny little swords threatening to cut me down. It was a rare hot summer in North Carolina, and the sun had been scorching all day.
The fly danced in the air, teasing me with its wild movements. Its wings fluttered in a strange harmony, an artistic poetry that, if I had been close enough, could have been heard. I followed it with my eyes, until it disappeared in the distance.
It was funny, I thought, how flies could stand such heat without melting. I wondered if it was due to the morphology of their wings, or if it was simply the fact that they darted around so quickly that the level of heat they were exposed to for a short period of time was bearable, and hence they could fly without any difficulty.
I chased the fly for a few moments, and then I finally stopped, realizing that I was only running after its shadow. So, instead, I just watched it, marveling at its magic, and appreciating its beauty.
The fly flew onward, dancing through the sky - blissfully unaware of all the chaos and turmoil in the world. A small reminder that life should go on, no matter what life throws at you. It was at that moment that I truly enjoyed the beauty of nature, and the beauty of the fly.
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