The rocks are alive

Oh, how hard my mum works in our garden every other weekend in our garden. Moss is bullying our lawn, weed is slaughtering our intended plants and in the shade everything refuses to grow. I perpetually have to pull her away when we are on holiday, as she stands drooling over the plants that grow just on the side of the road. What she tries to keep alive with fertiliser and extra irrigation, grows here naturally on the places where I would not want to grow if I were a plant.

When walking through a cute town in the South of France it is an experience on its own to look at the walls and see that the most beautiful plants and animals live there. My house is made of boring and dead bricks, but these walls are alive.