In May, our duo threw some sunflower seeds into a couple neglected concrete planters on Dale & University in St. Paul. After a summer filled with good intentions and no follow through we figured the plants had withered and died without proper care. But not so. On a windy day in mid-October, there they stood at the busy intersection, bright and cheerful, windblown and a little past bloom, but hanging on. While I was loitering around the planters, trimming bent stalks here and there, a man waiting for the bus came over to make sure I wasn’t stealing the flowers that he’d been enjoying all summer. I said no, explained that our duo, low tech/high joy collaborative had planted them, like it says on the sign. I also admitted that I hadn’t been a very good steward to the sunflowers, but in spite of that they still bloomed. Then he asked me if I was active in my neighborhood ‘because that’s the only way anything gets done’. I started to say yes but he had moved on to the glories of the light rail and how living in downtown St. Paul is so easy for senior citizens such as himself and that next year I should take better care of his sunflowers. I promised that I would but he didn’t hear it, his bus was coming.