It was close to midnight when there was a knock on the door. Years ago, that would have been cause for alarm. But now, after countless moments of neighbors needing one other at odd times of the day, the sound of a night knock is less about alarm and everything about connection.
When I opened the door, there he sat on my stoop: my neighbor, the gardener extraordinaire. Part Buddhist, part agnostic, part abolitionist, full anarchist. Up until this moment, all of our interactions, all of our stories have been full of light and laughter: gardening tips, favorite music, and discovering new things about each other. He truly is one of my favorite people. He owns this wicked three-wheeled, bedazzled, decked out pedal bike that he gives neighborhood kids rides on. He has half a dozen cats while also feeding all of the alley cats. His yard is a wonderland for both the new and experienced botanist.