Every day, at the same time, an old lady walks through Hyde Park in the centre of Sydney. She doesn't stop to speak to anyone, but the park pigeons expect her. When they see her coming, they fly towards her and make a sweeping circle above the place where she always stops. They land all around and on her, in a noisy, fluttering heap. She feeds the pigeons and then talks to them, calling each by the name she has given it.
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Every day, at the same time, an old lady walks through Hyde Park in the centre of Sydney. She doesn't stop to speak to anyone, but the park pigeons expect her. When they see her coming, they fly towards her and make a sweeping circle above the place where she always stops. They land all around and on her, in a noisy, fluttering heap. She feeds the pigeons and then talks to them, calling each by the name she has given it.
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