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530 when the church was built. The original is small, only about twelve feet across, and it is a part of the rich mosaic floor of the 34 The Wildest Place on Earth church. I enlarged this basic design and laid it out on paper, modifying it slightiy to fit the land, and then, in early spring when the snow was off the ground, I went out with an armful of sticks and began staking out the courses. I calculated that I would need at least one hundred and fifty plants to create this maze, and I spent a long time thinking about what materials to use.
As you approach the cottage from the road on the east, beyond a thicket of crab apples and plums, you can catch a glimpse of something in the back of the house, something enticing—a rose trellis, a bank of tall hedges, a patch of smooth green park with a surround of flowering trees and shrubs. What you see, mainly, from this angle is light, a green, wet light that contrasts with the dark surrounding woods, where, at least in summer, all light is absorbed. This is the main garden, and what I am seeking there is indeed light, a light in the forest.
I loved the barn swallows that swept over the wide fields rolling down to the marshes of the brook below my gardens, and I loved the smell of fresh-cut hay that permeated the whole of Scratch Flat on afternoons in early summer. I loved the cluck of the hens I used to keep, the pastures dotted with cows, and the sheep that grazed on the western slopes of the farm on the other side of the hill. I loved that fading purple light that used to linger over the hills at evening, and the lionbrown fields of November backed by the dark walls of pines.