A meadow garden was planted by the proprietor of Mt. Cuba in Hockessin, Delaware. 100,000 follicles of various grasses were sown. One tree was left growing in its middle. No-one at Mt. Cuba calls it a meadow: only a meadow garden.
In winter and spring it looks like a mown field of no great interest. In summer, the meadow begins to gleam a pale yellow-green in the midst of the darker greens encircling it. The meadow gardeners, looking like people out of Brueghel, weed the garden by hand.
In autumn the meadow garden comes into full glory. Its grasses stand three foot high. The yellow-greens have darkened a little. They sharpen the colours of the surrounding garden.
You feel a little sad that you ever doubted the idea of a meadow garden. You begin to understand about burning bushes and tell yourself it might be good not always to be so cynically irreligious.