For some reason I'm remembering when we visited my mother's older friend who lived by an estuary on the island, because down the road from her, there were some other older people who had the most beautiful home with gardens. Oh my goodness, these gardens, they were like something out of a fairyland. Those people had a real gift for gardening. It was so beautiful. Beautiful. Beautiful. And they seemed so happy there, too! And then, if my memory serves me correctly, we later heard from my mother's friend that everything had burned down and they did not have insurance. I always wondered what happened to them. It just seemed like their gift for gardening was so immense that they would have to go somewhere else and create more gardens.
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