Every so often I walk by an odd spot that looks like a weedy patch. It's a couple feet lower than the street and in the winter all you see are rocks in the bottom. I think it is some sort of catch-basin for water run off. When the weather warms, a host of native plants spring up among the rocks then quickly grow taller than the street level. They were waist high today, vibrating with the hum of bumblebees. Then I looked down and saw the silhouettes on the pavement, perfect reflections of their green sisters: leaves rounded or sword--ike, grasses lacy. I was there when the sun was at the perfect angle. It was the unexpected gift of the day.