the fine things I saw on my way to work today

A loose knot of wasps dancing over a lump of mud at the end of my steps.

Burst of startled gold dragonflies erupting from a patch of timothy grass by the #15 bus stop on Cornwall.

A dainty pointy-faced schizophrenic in heavy black boots and short white pants stepping carefully off the curb.

A kamikaze horsefly barrelling into the side of my nose as I cut through the park.

My strangled yelp, followed by an attempt to look like it wasn't me who just screamed at being hit by a horsefly.

A crumpet dusted with icing sugar masquerading as breakfast food.

A politician in a cream suit and wine shirt, face like a shaved ferret, speaking smooth unaccented French into his cell phone.

Cool hallways girding the pedestrian mall.

Lots of ladeez.

A grasshopper drifting sideways into a concrete wall.

The sound of the impact impossibly dry, dryer than kindling. And strangely loud. How did so much crackling crawl into a grasshopper's armour?

Cabbage moths whirling around thistles on the cut by the rail yards. A few kept pace with me as I passed by.