THE ORDINARY PROJECT
Tyler's Garden Patrol
“A Morning in the Garden”
I arrived after the tomatoes.
That seemed like poor planning.
Fortunately, I was here now.
Someone had to keep an eye on everything.
Every morning begins with patrol.
The garden first.
The tomatoes next.
They're still small, but the oldest little human checks on them every day.
I check on her.
It's important work.
The smaller little human prefers to carry me.
I don't always need carrying.
But she seems very proud of herself when she does.
I allow it.
Looking after humans sometimes means letting them think they're helping.
The taller little human spends a great deal of time making string behave.
She calls it crocheting.
The string clearly disagrees.
Whenever it escapes, I catch it for her.
She laughs every time.
I assume she's saying thank you.
Lee doesn't patrol much anymore.
He prefers the shade.
He says gardens are quieter when you learn to listen instead of chase.
I'm still considering his advice.
There are, after all, butterflies.
Perhaps that is because balloons understand children better than adults do.
Adults are forever asking what things are for.
Children are much more interested in discovering what they might become.
Patrol requires focus.
Every leaf deserves inspecting.
Every tomato deserves counting.
Every butterfly deserves at least one determined chase.
I had nearly completed my morning rounds...
...when the littlest human found me.
She has never understood that Garden Inspectors are extremely busy.
Before I could explain, I was suddenly...
airborne.
My ears made their feelings quite clear.
The littlest human remained wonderfully unconcerned.
Apparently important meetings can wait when there are sisters to chase.
So we ran.
Well...
She ran.
I supervised.
Mostly upside down.
It was, I admit, a very unusual way to patrol.
A Few Things I Remember
Along the Way
The balloon squeaked every time the wind caught it.
He spent almost as much time studying it as he did chasing it.
The strawberries stained exactly one clean white shirt.
No one minded.
The balloon lasted less than an hour. Childhood, thankfully, lingers a little longer.
I hope it still visits from time to time.
YOUR TURN
Every Story Begins Somewhere.
This one began with a little red balloon.
The next might begin with rain boots, pancakes, a favorite stuffed animal, an old pickup truck, or the way your daughter insists on wearing fairy wings to the grocery store.
It doesn't have to be extraordinary.
Because the ordinary was never ordinary.
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Turn The Page
Every ordinary day holds another story.
