Bougainvillea plants are found everywhere in Pakistan.  They grow prolifically, clambering up walls and hedges like enthusiastic children, their green shoots reaching upwards and eventually exploding in a cascade of paper-thin flowers.  In the midst of the dust and grime of Pakistani streets their exuberant colours come as a relief, a reminder of freshness and vitality in otherwise drab places.

This one is doing its best to climb across a roll of barbed wire.  The juxtaposition of the beauty of the flower and the harsh reminder of the lawlessness of Pakistan struck me as I walked around our house, reminding me that beauty is possible even in the middle of difficulty.