Living in the city, spring makes itself known here and there in bursts of color between the concrete and macadam. The climbing vines on the wall of the neighbor’s battered garage, the dandelions and other precious weeds pushing their way up through the sidewalk cracks… and down the street, drooping down over the high cobblestone wall surrounding the overgrown property of a dilapidated mansion, these.
I’m not sure what these flowers are, but the exuberant, overflowing bush they grow on has clearly been left to run wild for years. Every spring in May these clusters of purple blossoms open, giving their scent to the unheeding speeding cars on the road. It’s not a pleasant spot — the road is busy and wide and noisy, the sidewalk narrow and full of potholes and cracked slabs and litter. But every spring, these flowers create a tiny space of respite and beauty to an otherwise rough and man-dominated landscape.
My best guess is that they’re either wild lupine, blue wild indigo, or some kind of lilac I’ve never seen before. If any readers out there have a guess, please let me know. I’d love to be able to greet these beauties by name.