"A man's interest in a single bluebird is worth more than a complete but dry list of the fauna and flora of a town."
-Henry David Thoreau
Grey and enormous. Those are two words that come to mind as I remember standing outside my sister’s apartment. When I walked into the room, I reached for my camera. Sunlight spilled in through large glass windows onto bright green plants, living receivers of water and attention. The tiny fern was given a name by it’s admirers and as my sister showed me, if you gently brushed your finger against the stalk, the fern curled it’s leaves into an enclosed tiny tent.
Rows upon rows of wood and iron lined the expanse in the back making roads for trains and channels for noise. Slats of wood lined so perfectly on a fence that reminded me more of a wall. Not everywhere am I compelled to take pictures, but here I was. The grand Pine trees, symbol of the Northern States, were crafted so beautifully. Dark knots twisted in rusted wood against clean blue skies created the allusion of a never ending pattern.
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