Amid a morning run into Winnetka, reality struck me. No, it wasn’t a red-winged blackbird — at least not this time. Note to readers, the area due north of the Baháʼí Temple ought to be labeled bird alley. I’ve long been labeled crazy (among other things) for my habit of running with no music. It’s a fair criticism, but this practice affords me plenty of time in tune with my own thoughts.