Friday, September 12, 2008

opening, pain, grass

Every year the nasturtiums self-seed in one of the vegetable beds in the kitchen garden. By September, they are a riot. They take over an apple tree, a fence, potatoes, a bed of dahlias, some rose bushes, sundry salads and even invade the greenhouse.

In the dentist's waiting room, an elderly man at the reception desk observes to the receptionist as he settles his bill: "It's not physical pain; it's financial."

Looking out from a platform of the railway station, I note the gutter of a house supporting a dense line of grass like a long, thin lawn.
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2 comments:

Lucy said...

My cars got bits of mossy lawn growing on it too!

Lovely nasturtiums.

Plutarch said...

I once had a car like that. It was a Morris Minor estate. I was not the sort of owner who polished the body every weekend and oiled the woodwork. Over the years the wood became green and mossy and all sorts of vegetation sprang from its cracks and crevices. If it were parked under a tree you could walk past it without knowing that it was there.