Years ago I put two large pots with flowers by my front door. And I put a bunch of hefty stones around the pots to make them look like a planter. The idea was to make sure that no-one would park in front of my door, which a few neighbors would occasionally do, but it appeared as an attempt to beautify the town. When the plants died, I did not replace them. Only weeds would occasionally spring up from one or both pots, but not even weeds could survive for long without water. At any rate, the two flowerpots were in their usual sorry state when I returned to Motovun a week ago. However, a sturdy flowering plant appeared in one of them a few days later. I had no idea who had planted it, but I assumed it was one of my neighbors. The same sort of plant appeared in the other pot a few days later. It took me a few more days to catch the good neighbor. As I learned today, it was Josipa Valenta, known to all as Pina. She lives three houses down the street. In her eighties, she could not stand my scorched flowerpots any longer. When she takes her afternoon stroll up and down Borgo, she puts a small bottle of water in her pocket to water the plants in front of my door. Delighted by her gift, I hugged her by way of thanks. Small and frail, she only giggled.