The hedge was messy at the bottom: twigs and leaves nuzzled into the cracks on the pavement. There was even an overgrown branch, curved and upturned, that hooked on to people's trouser legs as they passed by.
One day a pink baby bootie slid out from one of those trouser legs. The branch was almost ripped apart. It fell limply on top of the fallen item until another leg snapped the branch clean off at the end and kicked it into the road.
The branch continued to grow. It gouged its way into the bootie then slowly retracted, footwear still attached. In the wind, it kicks.