Harvey waited patiently for his neighbor, Mr. Smith, to answer the door. Mr. Smith was probably only ten years older than Harvey, but he carried himself with an air of authority.
“Hey, Harvey,” Mr. Smith said.
“Hi, Mr. Smith,” Harvey said. “It finally happened. My son Liam hit a baseball over your very high brick wall behind the house. I’m really sorry, but could I retrieve the baseball?”
“No sweat,” Mr. Smith said. “There’s nothing important back there.”
Mr. Smith led Harvey through his clean house and to the backyard. Harvey was shocked as they approached the sliding glass door. It felt like he was Dorothy opening the door after the tornado. So many colors were greeting him.
“What is this, Mr. Smith?” Harvey said, as they approached the door.
“Just my garden,” Mr. Smith said. “It’s a diversion from my lawyering.”
Reader, it was not just a garden. And I do not have the descriptive writing ability to adequately justify what Harvey saw—a small path cut through flowers of all heights. Sunflowers towered, rose bushes blossomed with different colors, and morning glories were in bloom in the afternoon. Even the lowest levels of the garden were filled with the vibrant colors of geraniums and pumpkins.
“This is one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen,” Harvey said, staring. “Truly incredible.”
“I actually think it looked better a couple of weeks ago, but it’s just a backyard garden.”
“No, it is not. You should be on garden tours and in magazines.”
Mr. Smith started searching for the baseball. “Are you kidding? I’m not a real gardener.”
“How can you say that?” Harvey asked.
“Real gardeners know what they’re doing. They use fancy words and jargon and stuff. They would eat me alive.”
“From what I’m seeing, you could probably plant a Venus Flytrap that eats them alive.”
Mr. Smith pointed, “Look, there’s the baseball.”
To Harvey’s horror, the baseball had taken out a vibrant orange chrysanthemum. “Oh no. Let me help put a net up or something. I don’t want to destroy your flowers.”
“It means nothing. I hope your kid knocks all the plants down,” Mr. Smith said, picking up the ball.
“This garden is so amazing. I wish we could knock down the wall and let people see.”
“No thanks, I’d just get ridiculed,” Mr. Smith said. “It’s just my little secret.”