Beautiful boys have a way of making even the ugly things they do bearable by the adorable symmetry of their smile.
My science teacher had a fondness for injured wildlife — all but bunnies that is, and if you have any familiarity with trying to save baby wild rabbits, you’d know why. A student had brought in an injured barn owl that my teacher had taken great pains to bring to full health. I remember peeking over the tattered rim of the cardboard box, smelling the pungent scraps of trashed blankets that how now become its bedding. It was a beautiful animal, but I was at the age where I still refused to be star struck by even the simplest of pleasures in life.
When it came time to release the owl, our class trooped out across the soccer field and around the newly steam-rolled tennis courts. The outskirts of my campus led deep into the woods, and there honestly wasn’t a better spot to release the animal that the students could appreciate it without having to buss’em out to the wild yonder. Frankly, we were already there.