I find it ironic that as time marches inexorably forwards, the process of time only enables us to look backwards. Futures can be estimated, assumed or designed but nothing ahead can ever be fully certain. This railing was once unpainted iron. Later the balustrades were painted ivory, after that green and then blue. I wonder why some of the ironwork was left unpainted. Money perhaps, or time. Maybe both. In today’s world time is money.
