Inventory of What Grows Through Concrete

Dandelion, obviously. In every crack on every pavement in every city I have lived in, which is four. The dandelion is not impressed by concrete. Buddleia, the butterfly bush, growing out of the railway bridge on Sefton Park Road. Nobody planted it. It's six feet tall and covered in purple and the council has been meaning to remove it for three years. Moss. Green, committed, spreading one millimeter a week across the north face of the wall behind the bins. Nobody sees it except me and the wall. Japanese knotweed. The council actually deals with that one. Bring in the specialists, the injections, the root barriers. It eats through tarmac like tarmac is a suggestion. A fig tree — I swear — pushing out of the brickwork behind a pub in Peckham. Three feet of trunk, a handful of leaves, one fig that nobody could reach and the wasps got anyway. Grass between paving slabs. This is the most common miracle in the world and we step on it without a thought, which is maybe what grace looks like if grace looks like anything. In Łódź, after the factory closed, fireweed took the floor in a single summer. Pink, everywhere, growing through the machine bases and the drainage grates and a chair someone left. They call it fireweed because it's first after burning. Rosebay willowherb if you're being botanical. First responder if you're being honest. My daughter asked me once why plants break pavement but pavement doesn't break plants. I didn't have a good answer. I still don't. But I think about it every time I step over a crack where something green is already happening.