Up early, prowling around with the camera, Mr. Agave has an eerie glow in his new, most likely temporary quarters:
I wanted to get a few photos of the grates before heading off to work. Because, yes, the title was impossible to resist. But, truthfully, what kind of idea
this might be considered as depends upon whether you've ever felt inclined to collect odd bits of salvage for no discernible reason, as I have
done since I was a child. (If the answer is yes, welcome, fellow magpie of the human race.) Old street grates have always had a strong appeal.
I've used them to fill cut-outs in gates, as table tops, but recently I decided to just plop them on the ground as quasi-stepping stones:
Lately I’m feeling a little salvage goes a long way in a small garden. But one more, cast concrete rather than iron, that’s been overrun by creeping
fig on the back wall: (edited to add this is a salvaged concrete urn, not a grate, just slightly off the topic of grates and into general salvage)
Where I found more labrador violets and hellebores seeded into the brick terrace at the base of the wall (and where a friend found me):