The auburn extension of wooden capillaries thrust wide into the marshmallow blue sky. Like some chaotic beauty, the oak sits defiant against the stone and pollution of humanity. Has my perception digressed? That I might find equal beauty in the symmetry of descending row houses? Like a child, I sit and witness the eclectic playground of architecture, humbled by the dignity of arbor.
To sit in this park, enveloped by the erected geometry of unnatural edifice, is to love the city.
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