One is reminded of Miss Marple's roses more than Poirot's deductions when considering your angle. It has been outlined how happiness mirrors a garden, demanding tending, care, and patience, rather than being a mere weight upon our shoulders. The human psyche, much like a carefully cultivated flowerbed, requires specific nutrients - kindness, purpose, and connection. Neglect either, and the blooms falter. One recalls the case of Mrs. Protheroe, whose discontent stemmed not from a lack of material comfort but from a barren emotional landscape. Even Hercule Poirot would agree that a flourishing spirit, much like a thriving garden, often conceals dark secrets, waiting to be unearthed. But consider this the weeds of bitterness and resentment may choke the blossoms of joy, but the gardener’s most vital tool is forgiveness. One must prune ruthlessly, ensuring that only the fairest buds remain. In this regard, one should ponder: Are we not all merely gardeners, struggling to cultivate a semblance of paradise within our souls, forever at odds with the invasive species of despair? Become the quiet observer, tend to your inner garden, and the truth of happiness will bloom from the richest of soil!