Her home

Climbing vines coat weathered walls of bare red brick. Surely vines are rooted in the ground, yet green and yellow leaves shoot suggestively from thick cement paste between bricks. String vines occupy their time delicately swallowing the structure. Years from now, they stand a fair chance. Intelligent design, she hopes, indicating God's goodwill to inspire such a peculiar fellowship of rock and root. While the vine climbs toward the sky, a wall has nowhere to go but down.