As I wrote my poems at the edge of the garden, a woman made her rounds, and she stopped to talk along the way.
I asked her if she walked on this path very often, and she said that she came here daily.
She said that she liked how the garden changed with the seasons.
I asked her what she noticed, and she said that lately she had been keeping a careful eye on some tiny red and yellow caterpillar eggs that she found on a leaf, and that she looked forward to seeing them hatch.
How much some people see, while others see so little.
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