There was the vegetable garden and the rock garden. The vegetable garden is self explanatory - but the rock garden may need a few descriptors. It was a ledge outcropping from when my father and my uncle built the house. It was impossible to remove during construction or maybe it was artfully left as a design feature - I’m unsure. It was for my mother to decide what flowers went there - we actually called it Mom’s rock garden. I remember the tiger lilies, the violets and the hosta, and not much else being planted there. One summer we found a nest of tiny rabbits in the base of one of the large hostas and decided we would care for them. It wasn’t going well. We had no idea what we were doing. But a local black cat knew what it was about and I remember the sense of futile heartbreak as I spied it slinking out of the garden shed trailer with one of the tiny creatures in it’s mouth. Disappearing into the haze, by the brook where the skunk cabbage gathered afternoon light.