THE SILVER GARDEN
Before I e a. And a moment later, before I even opened my eyes, I kne .
Gone oo, tangle, and from it tered a s illuminated every aspect of my room. It I felt a surge of joy, as t just a nig er. It was as if spring had come.
t ently into tir, ely jumped do to go out. I pulled my clot on, and doairs togeto tche garden.
I realized my mistake t I stepped outdoors. It day. It t moonlig souclines of tatuary figures. I stopped still and stared at t circle, ood till daybreak, but t, impatient, pressed my ankles for attention, and I bent to stroke ouco pause a few yards off and look over his shoulder.
I turned up t, ss and followed.
do tly; on t turned into t te borders of box t surrounded tterns ted in and out of t, simes I an angle to catc perfectly; a sudden vie oak tree, etcy against t I could not stop. All time, t stalked on aep, tail raised like a tour guide’s umbrella signaling to t bordered tain pool and padded s perimeter, ignoring tion t ser like a brig ttom of trance to ter garden, o.
Under t and rigent. Sa of sigo.
Curious, I tiptoed foro stand where he had, and look around.
A er garden is colorful t time of day, at t time of year. Largely it depends on dayligo bring it to life. t visitor o look o see its attractions. It oo dark to see t too early in tness of snooo cold for to release its fragrance. tcs branced rembling yelloassels, but for no traction. Fine and leafless, tely knotted, ting randomly and