An Unexpected Encounter

A gardener was cutting down the branches of a large zelkova (keyaki).

To me, who designs with flowers and plants, the cut branches looked like treasures scattered across the road.

I couldn’t help walking up to the gardener: “Might I have these branches?”

“Take as many as you like—we’d only have to pay to have them incinerated anyway, so I’m grateful,” he said with a fierce-looking face, so I hurriedly gathered up the branches that looked usable for design and filled the bed of my light truck.

Just as I was about to leave with a “Thank you very much,” the gardener, who seemed to be the master, asked, “What are you going to use these branches for?”

I told him my line of work and how the branches would come in handy.

Hearing that, the gardener’s expression, so different from before, broke into a smile: “I see! Then the zelkova we cut is happy too,” he replied, with gentle eyes like a parent of the zelkova. That figure seemed to me like a comrade who loves plants.