Deep in the woods of the Appalachian Mountains sits a little cottage with a stone facade. The sprawling Woodvale Farm is just beyond the thick layer of trees. Moss grows up the cold rock around the pink door, reaching for the cabin's ridge. The house sits in a small keyhole in the trees. The sun shines perfectly in the backyard for the entire afternoon in the summer. The farm grows corn, tomatoes, cucumbers, and squash. We raised cows, pigs, and chickens; it feeds the town. But in the cottage's backyard, there were only flowers. Overflowing flowers. Vines grow through the lattice and wrap themselves around pillars. Big blooms and bright petals litter the backyard. 

I was terrified on my first visit. It looked too much like the witches' homes in my fairy tale books. I told Jack as much, and, never one to mince words, he informed me it was indeed a witch’s home. I giggled and asked, "But isn't this your home?" He just winked, leading my father and me inside. 

The grand fireplace commands the whole room. The grey rocks jut out in a varying fashion, the white concrete gluing them together—the staircase is tucked behind the stones, and the sprawling great room to the right with tall, vaulted ceilings. The wooden blades of the big ceiling fan spin lazily. 

Out the back door in the private botanical garden, the clouds gently drift in the sky, puffed up and sitting on top of each other. The sunset turning the white puffs yellow, pink, and baby blue. Like the clouds in an old European painting. Lavender plants humming with bees along the walkway, giving way to bright yellow Black-Eyed Susans. Dainty daisies, and blue, pink, and red petunias dotting in between, and right at the edge of the forest sat deep wine, almost black, dahlias. The blooms burst open like fireworks on the very first day of spring, staying alive late into fall, surviving longer than any other flowers in Guilder’s Hallow. 

Some would awe at Jack’s green thumb, others would glare out of the corner of their eye, calling him peculiar. I asked him one day if it upset him. He simply told me he was peculiar.