Dance of the Flamingos

 The flamingos are back.  They seem to fly in every year, right after the penguins leave after Christmas.  We can’t really explain it.  They’re not nearly as chatty that’s for sure.  Much more tight-lipped.  Heads held high, somewhat aloof.  They have the disposition of a disinterested lover playing hard to get.  What are they thinking?  Is amore on their minds like the rest of us at Valentines?  What makes the heart grow fonder?  I can’t remember.  Is it silence?  Or distance?  Is it flying south for the winter?  Oh, the secrets of the heart and the depth of God’s imagination.  It takes two to tango, but how many to flamingo?