When I was a child there was an enormous boulder in the middle of one of our hay fields. Growing up around that boulder was a giant willow, the branches of which drooped over the stone and cast dancing shadows, particularly in the spring when the fuzzy catkins would burst from their pods.
In Malleny Gardens near Balerno, there are four huge yew trees known as the four apostles. They stand facing each other like stubborn chess pieces, each one daring the other to make the first move. Duck beneath the branches and you will find yourself in the midst of the standoff, until you notice how the light betrays the intimacy of the meeting braches, and you forget there was ever a war.
My other favourite site in the garden is the slime-covered fountain across from the house. The flow of water is down to a trickle, sliding off the green murk like ooze.