ioo THE GARDEN OF A 



shrubs making a sort of cloister walk from the past 

 through the present to the future. 



How everything material and spiritual, if it is well 

 rounded, groups itself into the mystic three. Past, 

 present, and future. God, nature, man. Father, 

 mother, child. 



Ah, it is shaping, my Garden of Dreams! The 

 eye of the garden shall be the sundial, that bit from 

 Evan's past blending with mine. 



Though I dislike a set straight garden above all 

 things, Evan says that a bit of formality often clari- 

 fies wildness and gives it focus, so some beds of 

 summer flowers around the sundial, with grass left 

 between for paths, will make a restful break in 

 the view. Beyond, we might continue a plant-edged 

 walk in the wake of the cowpath quite down to the 

 old bars, and turn them into a stile. However I 

 must not plan too fast, but leave beyond the dial to 

 Evan. That is the future part of the dream. 



Mother wrote in her garden journal, now open in 

 my lap, during the first year of her marriage, " David 

 has had a seat made under the sweet apple tree and 

 a walk running from it to the strawberry bed. I 

 shall plant my flowers on either side both for con- 

 venience and to frame path and view as well. If 

 I may plant ten or fifteen feet every year, I shall be 



