The natural rock path extends eastward and westward. From here you can tell that it encircles a miniature garden, or perhaps a garden, and forest, in miniature. The sun beats down upon this part of the garden during the day, for there are no tall trees to lend shading. To the north of the path, rocks rise up that have become home to various small, hardy trees whose weather-toughened trunks have twisted over time with the winds. Rough roots dig into the boulders, cracking them. Most of the trees are of the fir and pine variety, with small, hard green needles and a certain prehistoric look. To the south, the ground is covered with moss and grasses, and the small trees growing there are of the deciduous kind, their branches following the will of the natural seasons, with leaves budding, growing, turning darker green, then to brilliant golds and scarlets, and then, brown, falling to the ground and leaving bare branches to rustle in the winter winds. In miniature, these trees are exquisite, no matter the season.