Every morning, as I descend the staircase of my apartment building, I am drawn to the windows at each landing that look out over the courtyard.
My apartment building has a secret garden.
I don’t know who is responsible for maintaining it, as I have never seen anyone gardening. In fact, the only neighbor I've ever seen in the courtyard garden was spraying a femur-like object with gold paint. But someone must spend hours weeding and planting, as the flowers in the garden have been constantly blooming since Spring.
I don’t spend much time in the secret garden. My interactions with it tend to be short glimpses on the way to and from work. But it is a constant presence in my life.
I recently decided to spend some time looking up close at my secret garden.