While I complain about living next to a main artery for a city ill planned for the volume of traffic it now bares, nevertheless I have admiration for the neighbours who determinedly plant flowers in front of their houses. Other streets that face our traffic, thinking it is only a matter of time before all these little bungalows are torn down for strip malls, give up, park cars on the lawns and stop picking up the refuse.
Yesterday, after a long day spent mostly in waiting rooms, walking home from the bus stop I was transfixed by these. I once did a water colour of them. They are so delicate and yet resilient. The rain seemed to make their feathery leaves glow.
I used to say I had synesthesia, but I think I am just highly sensitive to colour and form. The sensation that arose could only be called happiness.
I liked the textures in the wet pavement in this photo.