"Damn braces," wrote poet William Blake. These plants seem to be following his advice. Tree roots break out of concrete constraints; strangler fig roots escape through an iron fence; a poinciana tree pushes through a ficus hedge.
They have more force than I could summon at three o'clock this morning when I found myself in a tedious dream in which I would be graded for a course I never took, until I said--in my dream--"But I have a Ph.D." Blake also wrote: "If the doors of perception were cleansed, all things would appear infinite." I'm not sure about seeing the infinite, but perception is clearer in daylight. In sunlight I'm not confined by stale dreams. I can walk out of our condo and every few steps find boundary-crossers like those plants, and though a sign commanded, "Limpie su mierda, la gente camina aqui," the dogs were not obeying.