Over the last couple of days, on my walks to the Post Office to collect Snailmail, I walk by the McBride Street Strata’s garbage dumpster. In front of that garbage dumpster are a small patch of the flowers, of which I have no idea what type.
During the night when I walk by them, they are closed right up, looking like miniature parasols, tied up and clumped together on the beach. And during the day, they are wide open like umbrellas with their handles pointing up to the Sun. They are so colourful that they made even me stop and stare at them. My photograph is proof of this!
As luck would have it, their rooted space that they are so happily growing up from is also a roadway to the garbage dumpster that will, sometime this week, be emptied, and their fragile lives will no doubt end – or change forever.
The flowers are so lucky so far that in their short lives, that the grounds keeper has so painstakingly raked around them without damaging their stems and roots. This means that I am not the only one who is watching out for them, or admiring their spring arrival too. Also, those too from the McBride Street Strata itself who have been dumping their garbage off at the dumpster have being mindful of the plant because if you swing the gate all the way open, it will crush the entire plaint, slicing it right out of the ground.
The plant made me think about how unfortunate it is because it took root in the one spot that it will most likely die a short and decimated life. I can think of many metaphors of why this plant is so lucky, and unlucky, but living in the now, I admire its symbol of what it means for me: beauty, and the arrival of spring.