Mrs. Dean has been gone more than two decades now, but her garden is still thriving — a legacy for its current owners (who have lovingly cared for it) and those who live nearby.

It starts off innocently enough: daffodils and forget-me-nots.

But it soon slopes down a steep hill into a bowl-shaped parcel studded with red bud and dogwood. It’s a secret garden, a natural ravine designed to look as wild as possible. I’m glad I could see it as it’s just coming alive to spring.