The mid-August flush of Abraham Darby. The rose that never let me down.
Sunset reflected in the east. The clouds last night were spectacular, and we climbed onto the roof later. I have more pictures, and Vince took a mere 111...but he says they are not perfect.
There was a rooftop party on a neighbouring roof terrace on Congress Street, and I envied them. How I have learned to love rooves. It's a whole other life, determined entirely by perspective.
The 2003 blackout taught me that, even though I had been making roof gardens for a couple of years by then. I wish there were pictures. But that was before I had a digital camera. Maybe I can unearth the story I wrote for the Cape Argus...it's a good one, about fear and fire and friends.