During the first week of March, in the yard outside my apartment complex, the naked branches of a tree grabbed hold of a drifting piece of plastic. For some odd reason, it fascinated me to glance daily through the sliding glass doors in my kitchen for an entire month as wind, rain, and sleet shredded and twisted it into a somewhat ethereal sculpture. The groundskeepers finally removed it this morning (fortunately, I snapped a pic on Sunday). Normal, sane people probably saw it as an eyesore, but I’m not…either.
Those groundskeepers never understand great art!
Nope, no appreciation whatsoever. I just can’t believe the thing was up there an entire month.
Your reaction and appreciation of it reminded me of that scene in American Beauty when the young guy films a plastic bag that is caught up in the wind and tossed around — dancing with/for him, I think was how he saw it.
I had forgotten that scene, but it fits.
It’s funny how when I woke up this morning and made my way into the kitchen to make breakfast, I actually missed seeing its now familiar form dancing in the wind.