LIKE A STROLL THROUGH AN OVERGROWN GARDEN . . .
On the outskirts of town, down a tree-lined, twisting road, rests an old villa. The house has gone to ruin, and its manicured garden has succumbed to nature's relentless march forward.
In the center of the garden, you spot a grove of citrus trees ripe with fruit. Lured by the juicy orbs, you fight your way through a tangle of climbing roses and berry-laden brambles.
Alas, it has started to rain. You seek cover in the dense conifer forest beyond the overgrown garden. A few heavy drops splatter your face, and you look skyward, reveling as the scents from the Tangled Garden and damp forest mingle with the rain.