Happy St. Patrick's Day.
Sure, this is a photo of an early twentieth century rock wall in an early twentieth century city park. But over a century-ish, the moss has grown in cracks and crevices and in all seasons, decaying leaves gather at the seam. You give any rock wall a century and it begins to look exactly what some Romantics among us might think Ireland is like: a gray wash behind, fragrant old leaves in front, and green grows the moss on boulders.
Bet Highland Park has no snakes. It's St Patrick's Day, after all, and well, who says he didn't stop here, too, at one point or another (fifth century travel being what it was…)?
Well, it's my lie and I'll tell it the way I want.