Monday morning and the first sight of lime green spring appears in the trees that make up the avenues, it’s as if it just appeared last night, swapped itself for the Palm Sunday strollers. Now the park is full of dog walkers and pallets of blue green medallion wearing parrots, squawking. Behind there is the hum of commuter traffic and a trumpet echoes around the depths of the statue, practising rather performing today. The fountains are turned off, the dragons’ shouting mouths have stopped shooting water out but they are silently still screaming.
Today is the day for quite unfurling of spring; the sculptures are being all dramatic but spring is creeping in, whispering through tiny leaves squeezing out of tight buds into blue sky and for the poor boxer on heat getting too much doggy attention.
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