A couple of weeks ago, while on my way to work, I realised to my horror that my cairn had become caught up in something bigger than both of us. Even more wires had been laid across it.
Not only that, but sinister loudspeakers had been installed in the tree, broadcasting what sounded like propaganda around the clock, North Korea-style. I caught a burst of JFK’s famous 1963 Berlin speech. I wondered if my humble attempt at art had become entangled in a big-budget installation. I later concluded that it was some sort of advertising for the neighborhood.
But then, earlier this week, it was suddenly all over. The technology disappeared overnight, leaving my cairn slightly disjointed but ultimately unscathed. A sign that rocks do indeed endure, perhaps.