Amazingness

Yet such a diversity of plants!

I wonder why this one row of brick in-betweens is flourishing with greens whilst every other row and column is empty?

Could it be pure and simple coincidence that all the little plants have congregated in the same place?

Or does this spot receive a perfect line of sunshine whilst all other sections are shaded by surrounding objects? Is there normally a caravan parked above all the other bricks?

Perhaps this line was concreted particularly badly, leaving tiny spaces for rain to drain into, and for naughty little plants to break out of?

Maybe an accidental splash of plant food found its way here? Or, conversely, did this line get accidentally overlooked by a human with weedkiller spray?

Or has somebody been particularly encouraging this green line, watering, feeding, and loving it, whilst weeding all the rest? Are they, in fact, preparing this whole area for a plant race?

On your marks: Get set: Go! Who can colonise the whole length of their column first?

Having already tried the more aggressive approach of hitting the lamppost head on whilst airborne…this little lime tree fruit (wholly unrelated to a real edible lime tree fruit) is now finding much more success using the far gentler approach of casually floating past the lamppost, in order to effect the desired shape change.

When was the last time you played with a feather?

I found this one sticking out of a patch of grass; I think it once belonged to a pigeon. So I picked it up and have been playing with it.

Close-up, the structure is beautiful – delicate and perfectly stripy. I really wanted to hear the noise it makes when two stripes are pulled apart. It’s a sound I remember from childhood. It’s rather gentle, yet distinctive, very quiet and very lovely.

Each stripe is actually a very thin hair-like structure which is joined to its neighbouring stripes by incredibly tiny hooks. It works a bit like velcro.

And today, through my physical examination of this feather I discovered something new!

I had always thought that once the stripes were pulled apart it was impossible to put them back together, meaning that the feather was irreparably damaged and fairly useless for flying – a terrible state of affairs if it’s still being used by a bird.

But this is not the case at all. They stick right back together again, they just need to be brought together at the right angle.

I feel very relieved to have discovered this, and have been happily pulling the stripes apart and sticking them back together ever since!

 

Amazingness Manifesto – Statement Number 5:

‘Even something as simple as looking up at the sky, can lift our spirits and make us glad to be alive.’

I spotted this hoarding on the way to Cambridge train station and was instantly attracted to it. I loved the colours and the lines, and, of course, the diagonally growing ivy.

I wondered if the ivy would get all the way to the top of its diagonal without getting distracted, thus creating a perfect line. Or would it find its way on to the rectangle and change course, perhaps growing all the way around it.

If it does do this, I really hope somebody hangs a picture inside the ivy frame.

It also made me wonder whether I could grow my name in ivy. Or, even better, could I grow the word Amazingness? A quick internet search revealed that actually, yes, I could!

In fact, it would be relatively easy. As it turns out, ivy topiary is rather popular, thanks to its speedy growth, and its production of aerial roots that can cling on to just about anything that the stem comes into contact with.

I also discovered an American basketball team called Titans who have grown their name in big letters on to the exterior wall of their gym.

Rays of web radiating out in what looks like a mini galactic explosion, these are in fact trip-wires laid down by a big black spider with bright green jaws (a tube web spider).

If you happen to stumble across this set-up in the darkness of the night, you are quite likely to get gobbled up by the spider who lies in wait inside her tube of web.

Generally speaking, it is tasty insects such as moths and cockroaches who trip up, and consequently get munched.

Woodlice, on the other hand, can jump up and down on the trip-wires as much as they like, because tube web spiders think they taste gross and refuse to eat them.

As it turns out, not all naughty little plants are actually that naughty…this grass here doesn’t seem to want to make any trouble.

It’s trying to fit right in, lining up nice and neatly with all the other stripes.

Minutes after an intense and lengthy bout of rain, during one of those magical moments when warm sunshine breaks through the menacing dark-grey rain clouds, and the whole world responds by shining super brightly in its wetness, I was drawn to this little plant and his reflection.

Thanks to both the sun and the rain, the dark and brooding alter ego of this otherwise confident and successful fellow has been unleashed.