There is something different to be seen on every walk. This appeared since my last trip to the barber shop, on a way I travel only to get haircuts, in a garden filled with succulents, each more perfect than the next. This, of course, is not a succulent. It amazes me that I seem to recognize its parts, or most of them, but not their disposition. It’s like an explosive new year toy with all the insides exploding outward in celebration. Except that when I took this picture it was early spring. It’s attached to a plant with long thin leaves possessing many blooms. There was nothing about the plant last haircut to suggest that this might happen. I felt completely justified in ignoring it. But now, how will I ever be able to do that again?