Occupy.

Still I pass by without noticing the intricacies of its worn out existence.

Warm weather welcomes the wince of the weaned worn from a weary winter.

Peering under the bridge hoping to catch sight of the moving freights carrying cargo to and fro.

So far behind on these 3-6-5 posts it’s almost laughable.  A collage of mounted prints waiting on their frame.

The lowly cinder block.  Essentially the heart of many a building, the structural DNA if you will.  Often times coupled with a plank, creating  a bachelor’s first piece of furniture.

The transformation from barren, brown, and boring begins as blossoms abound and bloom.

Lined up and lying down.

The twisted way it walks.  Back turned toward the sun, head cocked.  Left leg with a slight limp forcing a shuffle, drag, shuffle, drag sort of step.

Supplied, stocked and stored for the day when sterility invades the land.