I’d always known it was there, of course: The magical little water source around the side of our garage. Obscured by weeds and tangled saplings, it quietly bubbled away under a blanket of pond moss and a bed of wild watercress the previous owner once bragged about planting himself.
Yes, I’d always known it was there, but until recently, this city-dweller had either been too distracted…or intimidated…or squeamish to venture into it’s murky depths to begin clearing away the debris to expose it’s many mysteries. But this past weekend I was determined.
And that’s when I met him.
He was a he, I felt certain. And he instantly knew how to charm a girl in muck boots and gardening gloves. Oh yes.
At first glance, there was a kind of shared curiosity and fascination. Then hesitation. For he was undoubtedly handsome, but he was also choosey, very choosey. His female friends, they had come and gone. None of them was quite, well, open-minded enough, you see. But as I stood there covered in pond scum, dazzled by his beauty, he must have sensed a kind of willingness in me to take the leap…
“Give us a kiss?”