I was surprised by a garden along my usual path of concrete and steel from the train station to my office. It was clearly marketing a product, but I was intrigued enough to look closer.
Ordinary midwestern garden vegetables. A nice contrast to my surroundings. I miss growing food, nurturing the little plants tending to them lovingly. Did I read that sign right? They want me to touch the plants? My mother’s voice echoed in my ears, “don’t touch”.
I reached out.
This experience brought a moment of unexpected whimsey to an otherwise drab morning. Not only was the placement of the garden unexpected, but also how I was able to interact with it. To touch a plant and have it audibly respond was a small delight. A bit of marketing that gave back to me in exchange for my attention. I look forward to listening to the ripening tomatoes.