My granddaughter “Nicole” and I went for a walk this morning in Gent centrum.  An ancient curving street beckoned, and Nicole noticed a plant shop that she wanted to explore – Broesse.  And so we did.  I looked in every nook and cranny for my favourite house plant (Calathea Makoyana) but it remained hidden.

What we did discover was a tiny café at the back, nestled in green.  Two cappuccinos magically appeared … and so began our meanderings about the state of living.

Life was slow and soft, full of art and growing things.  It was a sanctuary from “the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune”.

And then we parted ways with a hug.  I headed home, interrupted by a construction site.  I leaned against the fence and watched two massive earthmovers.

At one point the orange one was so unsteady with its load dropping to the left that its tires on the right lifted way off the ground … teetering against the pull of gravity.  Such power, such force, such … hardness.

And then there was the huge arm and bucket of the black one.  Load after load of rock amid soil, reaching the truck with apparent ease.  The speed, the lifting up, the pouring down.

Is this what we human beings contain – both the delicate flowers and the rigid metal?  Yielding and imposing?  The open hand and the closed fist?

I guess the answer is yes

But for me …

I lean towards Broesse