You should arrange at least some part of your limited "man-made landscape" to provide an area where you can rest and think, a peaceful observation point. I prefer a natural "planted" space instead of the old-fashioned gazebo garden-house structure. Though we all want some gay flowers and brilliant sunshine, we also need the seclusion of a quiet area, a cool reflective private spot. Here you will almost taste the freshness of the air you breathe. You can listen to the mourning doves, and the phoebe—the wind rustling the maple leaves. Smell the warm dry scent of summer, the fragrance of the lilac drifting on the breeze.

Our own private retreat is a cool shady spot—a hillside above the brook. A hillside and a brook are, of course, not essential. They just happened to be there for us.

Bulldozed level, this terrace hideaway is twenty feet long and fourteen wide. Two spreading maples provide shade. We made a small retaining wall about two stones high (three in some places) to hold back the bank on one side, and hold the land up on the other side. A rope hammock is attached at one end to a cedar post, set for the purpose, and at the other end to one of the maples.

Bird and Worm`s Eye View When you are in the hammock you are sometimes beneath the world and sometimes above it—depending on which side of the hammock you look from. Out one side you look up at the curve of the meadow. The land lies above, and you beneath. Out the other side you are in the greenery of tree tops looking down through leaves to the brook with a totally different perspective. This is, to our way of thinking, a pretty neat trick and it makes the hammock an ever-fascinating place to be.

The terrace-retreat itself is shady, but beyond the limbs of the maples the sun shines. Japanese iris grows in the sun fringing the area where we sit; so does Jacob's ladder, blooming from May on into July, the violet flowers touched with white, and each stalk of delightful foliage a small green ladder.

On the other side of the terrace a stretch of Dutchman's breeches spills down a steep rocky bank to the brook edge. The blossoms greet us in late April when the first days of the hammock begin. A pink and a white dogwood add to the shade and beauty. Lilies-of-the-valley (especially for fragrance) cluster beneath; foam flower parades in soft white along the bank; gold thread peeks from the leaves; jack-in-the-pulpit rises in dignity in the lea of the wall; white trillium, bloodroot, and red and yellow wild columbine bloom in succession; blue forget-me-nots and cardinal flowers thrive at the brook's edge; Virginia bluebells nod their bell-like flowers flanking the terrace up and down the hillside, and maidenhair, cinnamon, and royal ferns grace the area.

Though no pines stand in the vicinity, pine needles cover the terrace floor, for we have access to a fine source of them. Each spring we spread a carpet of fresh and fragrant needles gathered in two old bedspreads dumped in the back of the car and carted home. They contribute a pungent scent, a rich brownness, and a pleasant four-inch-deep rug, soft and resilient to walk upon.

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