Our eye-brain is amusingly arranged.
For some time now a text has been wandering around the internet in which all the letters are mixed up, yet we still read it easily and correctly.
Sometimes, however, it works the other way.
At times I used to drive home from work along Second Longitudinal Street, and somewhere near the Children’s Academy I would see an advertisement: “We buy rat hides.”
Usually I was returning from work rather tired, the car was moving fast, I caught the ad out of the corner of my eye, suddenly wondered, looked up, and then read it correctly:
“We buy cattle hides.”
But if, after a month or two, I happened to be in the same place in the same situation, everything repeated itself.
So today, just as a few days ago, while scanning the feed, I saw a poster announcing a festival of gnomes, which on closer inspection turned out to be a festival of STЕM teams.
That is what it means to be inattentive. Or attentive, but not very.
And outside the window — what beauty! The sun is strangely lighting the trembling, still overly shy little leaves on the trees and bushes; decisive spikes of daffodils and tulips are pushing up from the still unattractive soil; birds are chirping and flying back and forth, dazed by all this beauty!
Are you awake already? Already on your way to work? Or is there still time to admire the spring awakening?
In any case — admire it!
Good morning and a good day to you, my attentive ones. And to you, inattentive ones, too. And even to those attentive, but not very.
And may cattle have a long and well-fed life))
