"Wow; nice sketch," a teenager said, politely commenting as he pushed his bicycle across the bridge.
I'd seen down there at the bottom of the gulley a tiny flower growing out of the wall and couldn't help myself--I had to draw it. Everyone admired the pretty blossoms at the front of the park, not here at the gate in the back where you didn't get much sunlight in the Irrigation Ditch.
But in that world of grays and browns, a small magenta pom pom turned its face toward the sun and was smiling! I looked carefully, and even smaller blossoms below its collar (I'll call it that) seemed to be depending on it for their cheer too.
Do others--family members, perhaps--look up because of me, or do I smile only when it's sunny?
