In our micro-district, the new building saw the same picture for a couple of years. Everywhere the trees are untreated, grown with grass, the bushes beaten, there are no flowers... except one house. There weeds are removed, trees are excavated, bushes are cut and flowers grow.
Every year a new drawing. On the question of whose hands is the matter, he received the answer "what kind of choked grandfather, like a former agronom or about that." I saw him, yeah, grandfather, he barely walks, works very slowly, but educatively. And he always worked only on the trees of his house, even more precisely his half of the house. It is about 17 floors, so it is not a weak part of the land.
But last autumn, he did everything he could and surprisingly went to our yard. 16 trees, cut out the grass in autumn, circles around the trees, a small shell or something there exploded and fertilized. I thought about what a good grandfather. And he also worked slowly and for a long time, half a day under the same tree. The fertilizer from the package, apparently purchased at his own expense.
Spring has come, snow has come down...and grandfather has never appeared. He probably died in the winter. There are circles around the trees in the yard. The grass does not grow as if it was done yesterday. Every time I look at him, I remember him.
There is no man, but the fruits of his labor are these, they live their lives.