Sometimes I rose at dawn and stole into the garden while the heavy dew lay on the grass and flowers. Few know what joy it is to feel the roses pressing softly into the hand., or the beautiful motion of the lilies as they sway in the morning breeze. Sometimes I caught an insect in the flower I was plucking and I felt the faint noise of a pair of of wings rub together in a sudden terror, as the little creatures became aware of a pressure from without.
Another favorite haunt of mine was the orchard, where the fruit ripened in early July. The large downy peaches would reach themselves into my hands and as the joyous breezes flew about the trees the apples tumbled at my feet. Oh, the delight with which I gathered up the fruit in my pinafore, pressed my face against the smooth cheeks of the apples, still warm from the sun, and skipped back into the house!