kind of for solgaard...

thiiiiiis will kill me forever. As I walked down Wellington Avenue (what is it about starting a sentence with the word "As" that just stinks of pretention?) the green-ness of the green caught me off gaurd. It enveloped old brick mansions and devoured wrought-iron fences. It stole my breath. It even felt green. And then I noticed, behind budding shrubs, a wild rosebush already blossoming the smallest, pinkest, most startling and beautiful flowers. Soon these roses replaced the green shrubs. And I didn't have my f*^%ing camera.

I guess it's ok. I think those steps are now well entrenched in me. The grey sky, more grey than I've ever seen it, perhaps save the dead of winter..., the rick black iron, the radient, breathing green framing and fusing the scene and the poetic delicacy of that devastating pink blooming. I'm telling you. Will kill me forever.