My garden grew wild, full of secrets and weeds. I had gone away for a while. But when I returned, despite the daunting wilderness, I couldn’t stay long indoors. I stepped through the bush, cautious, across the land to which I had now become a stranger, expecting the ambush of a scorpion, a spider, or, maybe, even a snake. But imagine my sweet surprise, when everything made itself known to my probing eyes, as secrets, made especially for my delight, in all this while I’ve kept away.