Since my first encounter with what I now call The Seawall Mural, it is a joy to pass that junction and better yet, to be held up in traffic in its vicinity. I am grateful for the few minutes of departure from the reality offered by the mural and I wonder how many are as captivated by it as I am. Since my discovery of the boys retreating from the junction for idle times along the ocean edge, I keep looking, curious about what more I will see. Some days the blue in the mural’s sky exactly matches that of the sky above it. I keep looking. I am eager to discover what lurks in the spindly roots of the painted mangroves. I see a lone scarlet ibis. Where is the flock? Immediately my mind rests on the memories of airborne flocks. What a beautiful sight. Like a beautiful woman feigning unawareness of her beauty, walking as though the pavement is her runway. Next to the lone ibis is an uninspiring white crane. At least I think it is a crane. As my eye surveys the roots, and I imagine the return of the mangroves directly behind this scene, the lights change and my eastbound journey continues.
