It wasn’t his fault the date was a bust; it was mine.
On second thought, I’m going to blame it on the birds.
COVID limited our date-location options, so an early-morning hike at a nearby preserve was proposed. Only a few minutes of walking brought us to a rickety boardwalk jutting over the marsh, complete with missing railings, holes in the walkway, and no particularly good way of climbing onto it. Ignoring the “boardwalk closed” sign and spurred on by the sight of other figures ahead of us, we took the leap (or, rather, the undignified squish through marsh mud). I didn’t …
This article appears as “For the Birds” in the July 12, 2021, print edition of National Review.
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