It was a bright sunny day, a little bit too warm, but just perfect in the shade. I think when I met him, the house was empty. He wasn’t super tall, nor was he confident, but I saw him and knew there was something more.

He had the rosiest face. It was bright in spite of the missing confidence, and somehow welcoming? He sported a green sweater and dashing brown eyes with flakes of pollen-yellow complimented it nicely.

I didn’t think the time would fly.

We went to my place and stayed in the garden. He was shy, needing some hand holding, but I could tell the yard work made him more comfortable.

At the end of the day he stayed out in the garden. It seemed to be his safe place.

For the next week or so I would go out and visit him. Bringing him some water. He was always so eager for the company.

He enjoyed the simple things. A glass of water on a hot day. Feet in the soil. Staying outside regardless of the weather. The feel of summer rain of his skin. Watching the slugs journey out in the morning and hiding away when the heat set in.

But his season came to an end. A short life lived in the grand scheme of things. But a simple life.

Somedays I go out there to the garden and wave to the spot where he used to be. And when it storms, I stand out there like the vincas. Feet in the mud. Rain on my skin. Smiling towards the sky. Enjoying the simple things.