He lives in a run down house at the far edge of town. I see him walking from the post office occasionally, usually on Wednesday.
He walks with a barely perceptible limp. The hat he wears is a deep green and sits slightly off center on his thinning crown. Some of the town's teens whisper about him and stare, almost in fear.
No one seems to mind him living down that way, but they discourage their children from going down there with school fund raisers or even trick or treating.
He has a car in a garage beside his humble house all grown up with weeds and briars. Someone said he stopped driving the car after the missus passed ten years past. No one ever met either of them in social gatherings.
The day my spaniel, Ralph, chased a rabbit back that direction was the day I found out how much this quiet old man contributed to our little town and it took my breath away.
I rounded the bend running, following Ralph's barking as I swang around the back yard huffing pretty deep because I was out of air.
The back yard was completely different than the modest front. Before me rose elegant statues intertwined with the most beautiful blooming vines. Intricate wooden benches and swings were situate in various places throughout the most beautiful garden my eyes ever rested on. A pond rests in the center of this hidden oasis and, to my utter disbelief, several deer wander casually through the garden. Birds whistle to each other, setting off the alarm that I, a stranger, have breached the garden.
I stopped in my tracks and looked left and right for Ralph who wasn't barking or chasing the rabbit any more. He lay, to my shock, at the feet of that old man who was holding the terrified rabbit and stroking his soft fur.
Here there hides a sanctuary of proportions that no one dwelling in this little dust bowl could ever imagine. Fruit trees and fragrant florals everywhere the eye could see.
This place could be a great support to the community, if only the old man desired to share his oasis.
photo captured with Galaxy Note10 Plus on my lawn
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