22. You must see the Formal Garden

You start with a squirrel.

Nothing particularly remarkable. It fits neatly beside the box hedge. Then something happens. An accommodation here. An adjustment there.

The squirrel gets a little bigger.

Somewhere along the way, it becomes a giraffe.

But by then, you’ve changed the garden to accommodate it. The paths work around it. The hedges have been clipped to frame it. From where you’re standing, it looks perfectly at home.

Then comes the preposterously oversized peacock. It all makes sense to you.

On occasion, a friend might give a little “ahem.. don’t you think…?”

“Think what?”

“I mean, it’s magnificent. But don’t you think it’s a little… over the top?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. It fits perfectly in my garden.”

And it does. So does the rhinoceros.

Until one day, you look out from a different window.

‘Yes, actually, that peacock has become too large. The giraffe is too tall. And I never really wanted the rhino, but Geoffrey insisted.

We’ve got them now. To change now would destroy everything we’ve spent years building.’

Then you turn from the window, and go back to your life.

Later, while having a cup of tea, the thought arrives: “How did this come to be my life?”

You quickly dismiss it.