Daisies bounce back

Seems like the daisies keep popping up in my posts. Here they are again. What’s left of them!
If I’m recounting the good times of small town living, then I have to hit on some not-so-good ones as well.
My daisies were devastated on Independence Day—right in front of the flag I’d shown so proudly waving that morning. We were in the yard mid afternoon admiring the flowers and feeling the heat when we heard and felt a shattering jolt. Clearly a collision in the fairly busy street in front of the house. I ran for the phone while Bob ran for the sound. A truck had apparently run a stop sign and plowed up the embankment and across my flowerbed.
By the time I was out the door with 911 on the line, Bob was heading for our car. “He left!” He called “I’m going after him.”
Things calmed down. Bob did find the truck—badly damaged. The police came. The alleged miscreant who’d been doing early celebrating in a “borrowed” vehicle was apprehended. Things are almost back to normal.
Not quite. We’re still nursing the wounded garden. Bob rebuilt the bank and replanted the antique lilies and the precious daisies. I babied my treasured Pink Pet roses. The surviving daisies dipped in the summer breeze and assuring us that things will be fine!