Trimming A Golden Goose

I called your house and it rang in the yard. Hello earthquake, you answered. Hello yourself, I said. I was careful not to say too much. What's up? I said. I'm putting the dust in touch with the earth, you replied so matter of fact I almost believed you. I could tell you were on your stomach laid flat in the grass. My heart bumped. Does this mean you're gardening? I asked already slipping into my shoes.