Planting

I’ve started going to my new property every afternoon and planting four tulip bulbs. In the time it takes me to trowel up the clayey dirt, several neighbors usually walk by with their dogs. I pause to greet them and exchange names and chat a bit.

Because I’m terrible with names, I try to write them down when I get back to my apartment—in hopes that I’ll do a better job of remembering them when next we meet.

I don’t know if the tulips will come up in the spring. I don’t know if the neighbors will become friends.

But I have hope.


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