Another grey day

Another misty morning; more puddles in the street. Damp but mild; nice for walking, but not much else apart from helping the weeds to grow. (And the pretty plants too, but they are not as fast as the weeds.)

I remember reading about a form of torture where someone is tied down over a bamboo bed, and the bamboo grows so sharp and fast, it grows through you. Our phragmites are torturing the street pavement, coming straight through the tarmac, spearing towards the sky. I think they grow a foot a day.