Whitney had owned the café across from the old brick wall for six years. That was long enough to know every inch of the mural painted there before she ever opened her doors. It showed a wide, faded garden scene, nothing remarkable, mostly ignored by everyone who walked past it.
惠特尼在那堵旧砖墙对面开咖啡馆已经六年了。这足够让她熟悉墙上那幅壁画的每一寸，那是在她开门营业之前就画好的。画的是一片宽阔而褪色的花园景色，并不出奇，路过的人大多视而不见。
In early spring, she noticed a small addition: a single blue flower, painted with more care than the rest of the mural. It was tucked into a corner nobody would notice unless they were looking for it. A week later, a second flower appeared beside the first.
初春时，她注意到壁画上多了一处小小的添笔：一朵蓝色的小花，画得比壁画其余部分都用心。它藏在一个角落里，除非特意去找，否则没人会注意到。一周后，第一朵花旁边又出现了第二朵。
At first, Whitney assumed it was vandalism, however careful and deliberate it looked. She almost reported it to the building's owner before deciding to wait and see what happened next.
起初，惠特尼以为这是有人乱涂乱画，尽管它看起来那么细致、那么刻意。她差点要向大楼的业主报告，但还是决定先等等看接下来会发生什么。
By midsummer, an entire small garden had grown across that corner of the wall, flower by flower, each one slightly different from the last. Each one had been placed exactly where morning light hit the wall best. Whitney began setting up a chair near the window some mornings, hoping to catch whoever was responsible.
到了仲夏，那个墙角已经长出了一整座小花园，一朵一朵地添上去，每一朵都和上一朵略有不同。每一朵都画在早晨阳光照得最好的位置。惠特尼有时早上会在窗边摆一把椅子，希望能抓到那个人。
She finally did, on a Tuesday before opening, when a young woman with paint on her sleeves climbed carefully onto a step stool. Whitney walked outside instead of watching from behind the glass.
她终于抓到了，那是一个周二，还没开门的时候，一个袖子上沾着颜料的年轻女子小心地爬上一把脚凳。惠特尼没有隔着玻璃窗继续看，而是走到了外面。
"I should have asked permission before I started," the woman said quickly, climbing back down. "I'm Elowen. I didn't think anyone was paying attention to this wall."
“我开始之前应该先征得许可的，”那个女子连忙说着，从凳子上爬下来，“我叫埃洛温。我没想到有人会留意这面墙。”
Elowen explained that her grandmother, who had taught her to paint, had died in February. Every flower represented something her grandmother had once grown in her own garden, added one at a time through the winter of missing her.
埃洛温解释说，教她画画的外婆在二月去世了。每一朵花，都代表外婆曾经在自己的花园里种过的某样东西，是她在思念外婆的那个冬天里，一朵一朵添上去的。
If she reported it, Whitney thought, the flowers would probably just start appearing somewhere else instead. "If you'd rather I stopped, I will," Elowen said. "I know it isn't really mine to add to."
惠特尼想，如果她去举报，这些花多半只会换个地方继续出现。“如果你希望我停下，我就停，”埃洛温说，“我知道这面墙其实不该由我来添画。”
Whitney looked at the small, careful garden spreading slowly across the old mural. "Add as many as you need to," she said. "I'll bring you coffee while you work."
惠特尼看着那座小小的、细致的花园，正慢慢蔓延过旧壁画。“你需要画多少就画多少吧，”她说，“你画的时候，我给你端咖啡。”
