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Right here, right now I’m in one of those places that is infused with a lot of good karma.  Native races and religions probably all call these places something different but, having no greater knowledge than the combined which hasn’t been able to agree, I just call it karma.

It’s here, sitting in a rocking chair in front of The Hampton Inn somewhere in Alabama (I could tell you if I looked behind the check-in counter), where everything is a little brighter, everyone a little cheerier, the sounds of the interstate and access roads hold a little truer to pitch as they form a backdrop symphony with birds and sounds of spring break excitement for high flying American flags and the confetti pattern of colourful fast food signs.

Everybody feels the power of this place in one way or another. Some smile in joy, some unexplicably let out a whoop, some just feel the corners of their mouth turn up as they walk past this place, most not realizing they did.  

So, having found this little well of good energy, I sit, drinking it all in.  I close my eyes and I listen a little more intently.  The birds raise their voices; the traffic lowers its.  The breeze and sun play a puzzle game on my face alternating warm and cool below the shadow of my ball cap.  A Harley Lowrider plays solo to the dwindling symphony in harmony with the song bird …  

Karma smiles and I smile back.

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