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A GOLDEN SUNDAY AFTERNOON WAS CALLING: You need (to stroll through) a garden (the ornamental kind). Take good friends (the spontaneous kind).
And so I did.



We had seventy-five acres in which to stroll, with flowers and fountains and very old trees.



Evidence of autumn abounded.




The air was balmy, the bees were busy; there was even
matrimonial bliss.









In addition to this, we got to scrunch our imaginations into a tiny train car and take a ride.



After which, the garden closed, and my friends and I, we were hungry and went looking for a dive. (Indeed, we all agreed: It had to be a dive!*)

Without a doubt, it was a frabjous day.



(*In the dimly-lit and friendly barroom,
we dove into our supper).


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