My uncle tells the story of when he was a teenager still living at home and my sister and I came to visit our grandparents. When our running and playing and overall childishness became too much for him to tolerate, he went to his bedroom, opened the window, crawled out, and made his way down the hill and into the woods for a little peace and quiet.
When I hear this story, I am reminded of why I love the solitude of my garden so much. Don't get me wrong. I'm all for running and playing and overall childishness. However, when I can bear no more, the garden is where I'll be.
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