Where do I begin?

Where do we begin ...

... a boy sat on a park bench and distractedly observed an elderly couple, who were feeding, a rapidly growing, flock of pigeons.

Within a few minutes, the two octogenarians, who were nestled comfortably on their favorite bench, produced copious quantities of bird seed out off their over-sized winter over coats.

As they threw more and more seed in front of them, the size of the frenzied flock seemed to magically increase as an inordinate amount of  birds swooped in to peck at the feed.

At one point, the old man and the old woman became completely engulfed by the ravenous pigeons. Both the lady and the gentleman giggled with glee as the birds perched all over their bodies. The birds sat on the old man's hat, the birds covered both the old lady's shoulders. The more the birds fluttered about--the happier the couple became.

In a finale worthy of fourth of July fireworks, they dumped the remainder of the birdseed over the tops of their heads.This resulted in the pigeons totally burying the old couple.

The sight of this swarm of feathers, cooing incessantly, alarmed the voyeuristic youth, but before long, the heads of the old couple reemerged. Soon the birds consumed all the bird seed.

And soon after the food was gone, the pigeons began to disappear.

The coupled moaned a simultaneous, "oh, no," as the last of the pigeons were swept away by an encroaching puppy, who was maniacally sniffing his way along the park's paths.

The youth's empty gaze followed the bird's retreat, switched to the dog's meandering, and much to his surprise these distractions led him to come full circle -- back to the Latin Altar Boy Manual cradled in his lap.

After a moment of staring vacantly at his Latin, he lifted his head and watched the old couple, who were now munching on a snack of their own made of fruit. The old man was eating a fig and the old woman was eating a banana. He smiled and tried once again to memorize his Latin script.

Once again this did not last long, and the youth's mind wandered in a flight of free association. He struggled to stay focused and keep his visual attention on the Latin Mass, None the less the eight year old could not help but wonder what it was like to be eighty.

After concluding being ancient had to be harder than it looked, he deduced that it is easy enough to watch someone else commit what appears to be obvious folly; but when it becomes our turn, when the shoe is on the other foot, when the tables are turned, then it is not so apparently obvious that you should be able to anticipate your own folly.

The boy didn't dwell on that thought for too long as he repeated the altar boy responses to the priest's recitation during the opening of the Roman Catholic Mass. 

He wondered, instead, how many repetitions he would need before the light bulb went off, and his memory kicked in so he could conquer these melodic but cryptic Latin phrases.

Dominus vobiscum: Et cum spiritu tuo