Wheelbarrow Patrol

I pushed past the front screen door and marched down the sidewalk to the community garden! Right on the woodchip path sat a bright orange garden trowel stuck point-first in a mound of rich black potting soil. I sprinted right over, wrapping both hands around the smooth ash-wood handle! Yank, tug, heave! It popped loose with a soft clump, spraying damp earth across my feet. I hoisted the tool up like a tiny flag and leaned it neatly against the metal tire of a parked wheelbarrow, admiring the deep scoop mark I carved in the dark dirt!