Sometimes the closest things get too blurry to see. They get so close and so blurry that you think you can see right through them and everything else is tinted with their colors.
There's a story somewhere about a man? who could project his thoughts into others' minds. That isn't to say that he could read their thoughts or even control them, just that he could put his own in among theirs. They might be lost in thought, walking. Thinking of how much work they had to do, how far behind they were on some pointless project, as they passed him on the street head down. He might, should the mood strike him, look at them and slip a tought of a daisy opening up on a spring morning among the papers and numbers and voices. Just for a second their stride might break. They might look up from their thoughts and see that the sun was shining here, too. They might notice the man, they might not. It didn't really matter to either or to either of their stories.
In Switzerland there's a town called Gryon. It's on the side of a mountain and surrounded by vineyards. There is no bank in Gryon and the grocery store is closed after five and on Sundays. It's unbelievably beautiful and the farmers there magic mushrooms on sandwiches when they're in season. When you visit someone you bring a bottle of wine, and they repay the deed with a bottle of their own. To recork a bottle of wine is considered an insult, implying that you want your guests to leave early. Farmers can get stickers to put on modified cars which allows them to drive impaired. If you see one of these cars, modified to not go over 35 km/hr you better get out of the way. The farmer may be drunk, blind, or on mushrooms.