The dump truck was a highlight of a birthday some years ago — his fifth? sixth? seventh? It was all he was dreaming of, and he loved it so.

Then he outgrew it, and K thought of using it for a planter. She had a potted plant in it, replaced every now and then, for a couple of years.

Now it sits by the side gate of our fence, neglected and forgotten until I walk into the yard, happen to glance back down.