Whirr the gardener hears as he enters the laundry.

“Bugger,” realising the dryer is dopey and running on cold again! Sadly, it’s still needed on this spring day!

Click, Clank as he resets it, hoping for heat.

Clunk as he picks a large bucket and exits.

“Oh!” as he finds a rogue coffee mug on the nearby desk.

Dunk! He places it into the bucket.

The gentle spring wind seeps through the doors and caresses his body.

Hmm, he wonders what bounty he’s about to be blessed with from the growing garden.

Whirr, he hears the gentle noise of an aircraft far overhead. Going or coming, he wonders.

His brows furrow, his lips purse as he realises that wearing reactive glasses isn’t great for this task!

The gentle afternoon wind whispers to him as he surveys the runner beans, peering through the verdant foliage.

He pushes apart the slender vines, peering intently for the purple slivers.

A smile as he finds the first dangling slender bean.

Snip as he finds a succulent red runner and severs it from its mother plant.

Ding, it bounces off the coffee cup.

Clunk, it hits the bottom of the bucket.

Soon, snip, ding, clunk, repeat as the succulent beans depart their vine and rain into the bucket.

A silent gap as he moves to the frame and peers intently.

“Hmm,” he muses, brows furrowed, and lips pursed in concentration as his gloved hands gently part the irritant cucumber leaves, wondering if the vine they’re hiding is going to provide today.

“Nope,” he concludes, breathlessly sighing at the cold, but happily seeing the future bounty.

He smiles, looking down at the netted basil plants, seeing their first proper, fragrant leaves. “Few more days,” he muses about when to remove the net, knowing that too soon, his Starling nemesis will happily pull the coveted plants out, and he’ll have to re-net.

Slow sigh, sniff as his cold hits home, and he surveys the Toms. Sadly, still green. Another smile, thinking of future bounty and how they’ll taste with the nearby Basil.

He moves off to the next section.

Clunk, the bucket hits the ground.

Zip, as the secateurs sever a Rhubarb stem.

Snip, as he severs the leaf.

Thunk, as he places it in the bucket.

Zip, Snip, another stem!

He lingers and rotates; the wind gently whirrs now that he’s in the open and changed direction. He wheezes deeply, the cold impairing his lungs. Zip, zap, zap, his mind thinks of the crisp stems on the chopping board as the large knife slices through.

The gardener smiles as he thinks of cubing it, briefly microwaving it to soften with some mixed spices and a nip of sugar to sweeten. His stomach rumbles!

Focus resumes, “Hmm,” he muses, surveying the Cape Gooseberries, looking for their tan lantern shapes, wanting to find only those that contain perfect, yellow orbs.

Snip, he severs a lantern.

He reaches around. Clunk, the lantern bounces off the Rhu stem and seats itself in the bucket.

Snip, clunk, snip, clunk as the plants yield their bounty, and it hits the bucket.

The gardener smiles contentedly with his bounty, but admiring the newly blooming dahlias.

Job done!