Saturday, March 19, 2016

looking for colour / March blues

If April is a cruel month, forcing lilacs from the dead land, March is dead land.

The city snow melts, exposing eddies of thawed garbage, soggy cardboard, litter that won't break down in a thousand years, decomposing turds. knotted baggies of dog poop. Why do people collect the poop and leave the bags of poop on the side walk?

If only I could get into my garden allotment where I'm sure crimson rhubarb spears are thrusting up through the earth--belying the dead land--but the gate is still padlocked.

Yesterday I went looking for colour which, admittedly, was plastic and paint and oxidized copper, but even that cheered me in these last dreary days of March.

A fence in sunlight. 

An old Xmas wreath. 

The usual Montreal road havoc which  guarantees a daily dose of orange to beat Hallowe'en.

No lack of graffiti

Copper turns milky blue green as it oxidizes. 

And she brought her own colour with her jacket and hat, and matching lipstick, fingernails, earbuds, cell phone. 

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