Hojo welcome in my cityjungle. Where the fruit is hanging on the trees. And not the strange fruit hanging on the poplar trees Billy Holiday was referring to. Where the kiwi grows wild and my mind too. Where nature presents me with all sorts of plants popping up, a waterplant as a gift in the stream, the orchid which grows on the other side of the river appears everywhere, alchemilla millefolium (thousand leafs) in between the pavement, all these nice wild plants most other people want to get rid of  calling them weeds,  are nestling nicely  in between the cultivated plans. And I rest in admiration.

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