(Reeaaally not looking for terrible or horrifying things here. Want happy or cool stories! And Iā€™ll start.)

My job currently has me going into random peopleā€™s back yards. I see immaculately groomed lawns, overgrown lawns, perfect shrubs, imperfect shrubs. I see weeds up to my hips, I see junk, kid toys, dog toys, real grass, astroturf, basically everything.

But today, I think I accidentally kind of walked into a modern fairy tale setting. Not a beautiful Disney type of fairy tale. More of an urban fantasy sort of thingā€“like if Abandoned Porn did gardens.

So, the place was a small suburban yard. House was probably built in the 70s, and has been neglected as of late. I had an impression of faded yellow siding, discolored, peeling.

The front yard had an old chain link fence, and was kind of overgrown with some gnomes and such, but that part didnā€™t really register on me too much as Iā€™d seen places similar to it from the front with overgrown plants and junk, and it usually just got worse in the back. On most homes, the front is the nicest part, and everything hidden in back is not so nice.

I go up to the door and ring the bell. An older man with hearing loss answered the door and I eventually got permission to go in back after pantomiming why I was there and what I was going to do. (I wasnā€™t smart enough to get my phone out and type in itā€¦next time, I guess, hah.)

So I tramp around into the back past a few cars that probably donā€™t work, 90s era stuff, and one truck that might have been 70s or 80s.

And at first, all I see is weeds. Weeds, sticks, a gnarled tree that got knocked down in some storm and was still laying there, a wrought iron table that itā€™d landed on bent and deformed underneath it.

There seemed to be some paths through it all, but still, I was not able to easily move about, and Iā€™m not a large person. My progression into the yard was: Crunch crunch, crack, OW, crunch, brush, rustle.

Howeverā€¦as I worked my way further into the back yard, I began to realize that even though there were clear signs of neglect, this yard wasnā€™t actually ugly. Yeah, it was totally overgrown. Yeah, it needed considerable yard work done to get the old branches and that dead tree out.

But it was also beautiful.

And I realized that, once upon a time, someone with a creative touch had really, really loved this yard.

There were little stonework paths going everywhere to little places that had once been important, lost underneath the overgrown weeds and leaves underneath my feet. Not cheap fake stone or brick crap that someone artistically lacking picked from a catalogue or whatever, I actually kicked some of the leaves aside to see what was underneath, and found that it was nice stonework, the really well-planned kind with the type of artistry you only get if the homeowner themselves has a creative touch. (Basically, you canā€™t buy that type of art, especially not for the tiny back yard of a 70s-built suburbia house.)

There was a gazebo with stone benches, there was a well (probably decorative, but not made cheaply). There was a bit of ā€œcottage chicā€ stuff aboutā€“but it wasnā€™t new, and the yard had grown around it. Tumbled some of it over artistically, tin watering cans lost in stalks of grass, giving it an air of veracity that it might not have started with.

I saw what seemed to be an old grindstone, for sharpening knives, covered in ivy and webs. It looked straight out of Skyrimā€¦if a bit smaller than I expected. Speaking of webs, those were everywhere in the ivy, covering it and other plants thickly, catching detritus from spring like dead flowers and petals.

There were some weeds, but (astonishingly since Iā€™d just tramped through yards full of weeds a few hours prior) they were scarce. The original plants were overgrown but had NOT been pushed out by weeds like I usually see. Iā€™m not gardener enough to know how this even happenedā€¦I can only figure the original gardener was very clever at picking their plants to begin with, and chose ones that would strangle any weeds, instead of being strangled by them.

The entire back yard was overgrown, though. Just with those nice garden plants instead of weeds. There was ivy spilling everywhere, there were low-lying evergreen bushes creeping out of old stone planters.

I saw some dry rose thorns in the corner by the AC unit where I was doing my work, and thought, ā€œIā€™m glad they didnā€™t plant those roses where I am workingā€¦but they look pretty dead from neglect and too much shadeā€.

My job had me moving about the entire yard, and I ended up approaching the AC unit from the other sideā€“and saw a single dry rose bloom jutting straight up next to that AC unit. I hadnā€™t been able to see it from the other side, the overgrowth was too thick, but approaching it from the gazebo, there it was. It was half-dead, probably from the rose bush being in total shade, or being choked out by all the ivy. But it was there. One bloom, pale pink and dying, sticking straight up like it was saying, ā€œIā€™m still here!ā€

That flower, jutting up in the most inhospitable part of the yard, in this ruined garden that probably only I had set foot in recently, made me take a second look around, and I realized I was in the perfect setting for a modern ā€œSecret Gardenā€, or a modern retelling of Beauty and the Beast.

I thought about it a bit, wondered how everything had come to be in this state, and concluded that whoever had loved that garden had probably become disabled, or had passed on, and the people still living in the house had no ability or desire to go back there and start to clean things up and make it bloom anew.

And I found that sad, because this wasnā€™t a regular bit of landscaping. So much work had gone into it at one point that now, probably at least 5 years later if not 10, I could STILL see the beauty itā€™d once had, shining through all the dead plants and spiderwebs and fallen objects on the ground. What would the original gardener have thought, to see it neglected like this?

The whole situation sticks with me. An interesting experience, and now a memory Iā€™m grateful to have.

Like, here I am, in this little random back yard with a beautiful abandoned garden that nobody goes into and nobody has seen recently but me.

I think I have to write a story about it somedayā€“a story better than this post. But Iā€™m hoping a post will share a little bit of what I saw for now.

(I donā€™t have a photo because the guy at the front door was near-deaf and could hardly understand why I needed to go back thereā€“didnā€™t want to take advantage of him allowing me back there in the first place by taking photos and putting them online. He deserves privacy. But I might very well write a retelling of some fairy tale, with the deaf guy answering the doorā€¦and what might happen when you go in back and get pricked by that rose next to the AC!)

Anyway. What are some things that you guys have come across, if your job takes you onto peopleā€™s property for a living?

  • FrostyCaveman@lemm.ee
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    10 days ago

    Thatā€™s really moving, OP. Iā€™ve had similar feelings before, discovering (or merely even noticing) the finished result of someoneā€™s labor of love - someone who was no longer in the world.

    My grandfatherā€™s homelab and media setup was, and timelessly now is (since I backed up disk images of some of his computers) like this to me. Despite my years of my own joyous tinkering, in many ways his setup still eclipses mine. ā€œSelf hostingā€ wasnā€™t really a thing yet when he was doing all this, since we hadnā€™t yet moved to a highly web-centric, SAAS-dominated world, but heā€™d have been super into it. Whatā€™s left of his computers are now quietly falling into disrepair. But at least I have some of the data. Heā€™s been gone over a decade, still miss him.