The Gardener He’s a tall man, lithe and long-limbed, who gives himself eagerly, wholly, to tending his back yard. The grass is green and framed by gums. No hard lines here, just the curves of flower-beds, a huddle of shrubs, a wooden fence overruled by vines that flash their colours in Autumn. To see his wheelbarrow take a bend is enough to raise a cheer but it’s never a matter of haste, the work’s his way to enhance a day. Fork and rake grow clots of mud from digging loamy plots. At their post, and following, the brown eyes of…