Four young men, in full gansta gear: braids, grills, caps, white tees, riding alongside a busy city street on horseback. One waved as he and his Palomino passed in front of me and flashed me a proud smile with his platinum teeth, like the 16 year old boy he still is.
Two small cartons of milk symmetrically placed beside a jelly donut, a red Bic lighter carefully placed in the center of the donut, like a birthday candle.
One of several such impromptu shrines placed at various intersections by one of our ubiquitous crazy men (Early sixties black man, always in orange)
Ubiquitous crazy man number two: mid-fifties white guy, with 6 foot 4 long gray dreadlocks, walks everywhere with trash bags, swaddled in sweaters, even in July, standing in the portico of Winn Dixie eating a peach.
Pack of 12 large nutria being chased by an angry chicken, in the middle of an upper middle class suburban neighborhood.