Fairy Gardens

Urban landscapes may be “landscapes” in name, but few of them are “landscapes” in nature. Covered in buildings, paved with roads, and domesticated for the easy human lifestyle, they are but plots of land covered in varying shells and skins. Flat cement and smooth asphalt. Glass panes and steel beams. Neat lawns and straight trees. We travel the surface, back and forth, unaware of what once lived there. The ghosts have no place in our clockwork lives.

Occasionally, it’s possible to see a glimmer of the landscape. A ghost wakes sleepily for a moment and releases a small breath. The tiniest of wild flora find their way into unsuspecting nooks, and as time works it magic, tiny seeds sprout into tender tendrils and eventually unravel into leaves and flowers.

The true landscape often flourishes unnoticed. It manifests in the tiniest of forms that are dwarfed by man’s creations. It reaches for the light from strange places, defying gravity. Who would deign to even notice it? But perhaps that is why it can flourish despite the odds.

through two walls
across the bricks
in a hole
in another hole
on the sidewalk
in the corner between two walls
at the base of a wall
between some bricks

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