The warm sun beats down on my back as I kneel in the soft, rich earth, my hands buried in the dirt, planting fresh seeds. The sweet fragrance of wildflowers and the gentle whisper of the breeze dancing across my flower beds remind me of why I love gardening so much.

My peaceful moment is suddenly interrupted by the loud sound of a truck pulling up nearby. Looking up, I notice a moving van parked outside the empty lot just across the street. Seems like a new neighbor is moving in. How intriguing.

Curiosity piqued, I wipe the sweat off my brow, leaving behind a streak of dirt on my cheek. A hint of a smile graces my lips as I dust off my hands and stand up, brushing the soil from my work pants. I stretch my back, feeling a satisfying crack that echoes through the air, then proceed to cross the street, determined to meet my new neighbor.

Making my way closer, I clear my throat softly and greet them, "Hi there, I'm Elsa from across the street. I couldn't help but notice you're moving into Barnaby's old farmhouse. It's a beautiful house, indeed," I say, looking at the house, and admiring its beauty.