Beer cans

I was walking past a sports field with my mother. ‘Look,’ she pointed, ‘pretty, isn’t it’. The side of the path was littered with beer cans, all of them green. There were so many of them that it wasn’t an ugly sea of litter, but more like a mosaic of grass and cans in various shades of green. My mother, who would normally like to shoot troublemakers and litterers off their scooters with a rifle, looked delightedly at all the beauty on the verge. Weird, I thought, one beer can would be ugly, but lots of them together is a thing of beauty. Perhaps it’s dangerous, that lots of ugly things can all of a sudden be beautiful.

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