Who Was That Masked Gardener?

On a dreary Monday morning, while heading over to Cafe Vita with my laptop in my backpack, I came upon a mysterious gentleman hunched over in the weeds at Dawson and 49th.

A little investigative journalism -- i.e. asking, "Whatcha doin'?" -- revealed that he and his landscaping crew had been scheduled to build a flagstone patio at a nearby residence that morning. But, he said (with just the hint of an eye-roll), "We were scared off by a little drizzle."

I'll venture to say that many of us, released from the prospect of hauling rocks in the mud all day, might have taken the opportunity to sit down someplace with a hot cup of joe, and enjoy the gentle pitter patter of the rain from the dry side of a plate glass window.  Not our hooded hero: "I've been driving by this traffic circle for months, thinking it could use a little love... So I figured, what the heck. I pulled out a bunch of blackberries" -- here he gestured at a thorny pile -- "and then I had these irises I got from somewhere, so I thought I'd put them in. Now I've just got to trim back this lavender."

I asked if I could take his picture, write him up, maybe get him a little recognition for his neighborly generosity. "You can take my picture," he said. "But I'd rather remain anonymous, if that's okay with you."

When I showed him the photo on my camera screen, we both laughed. "I guess people in the know won't have too much trouble figuring out who I am." He seemed okay with that.