It’s the little splash of ruby grapefruit pink that echoes the foliage trapped by silvered old wood. Which echoes the weathered grey asphalt.

It’s the tendrils curving optimistically towards the road. And the yellow petals lined up perfectly as if they were part of the stem, not scattered by a spring breeze. The splashes of vibrant green leaves, as if painted in by someone with an artistic eye and a pleasing sense for balance.

It’s the ordinariness of the scene that makes you want to pause and wonder at the extraordinariness that happens on the interface between (hu)manmade and mother nature.

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