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| Bocchum/Feb 2020 |
Walking across the carpark he felt the rain on his face and the pain in his knee; the rain was cold, the pain forever.
But he looked up and saw the bright blossom of first spring.
The tree was half hidden between a functional evergreen hedge and the industrial grey back of the sports shop. He smiled and said thankyou as he opened the door of his car and sat down.
His knee reminded him to be thankful for each beauty.
Turning out of the carpark he saw the soft blue glow of unexpected rosemary, a smuggled presence in the hedge, and he joined the other grey wet cars heading out of town.
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