There's a house that I drive past frequently in a more affluent part of our city that's on my way to here, there, and everywhere it seems. The property and gardens are meticulously manicured, including two shrubs out front near the drive that are always dressed (yeah, I said dressed) for the season. It's part charming and part eccentric, but I can't fault the person for getting down to the details.
I always assumed that the homeowner (a woman I've seen from time to time) had a lot of free time to work with. A lot. It never entered my mind that she had help, until the other day when I noticed a golf cart outside the home and an elderly Hispanic man crouched down plucking, primping, and pruning anything that was sprouting or blooming.
As I passed him, I thought: he is exactly who I want to talk to. One of the small people behind the big people. One of the ones who is moving and shaking in a completely different way than those celebrated as leaders in our community.
As I go in to my last week of writing for this blog, this new project is on my mind. I can't wait to get started, but that is in the future and I am in the now.
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