One day, I went to the Arboretum with my girlfriend and her family. We were 14 or 15, and though by then, I had visited the Arboretum many times, this day stands out in my memory. We managed to wander off from her parents and climbed a small, wooded hillock to reach an open rocky place in the sun. We were lying there, enjoying the warm and peaceful afternoon, and I was almost asleep, when we were startled by the loud snort of a horse, and its metal shoes clicking on the rock. We leapt up. A policeman on horseback, helmeted and wearing reflective sunglasses, was looking down at us, sternly–or so we imagined. He said nothing, and neither did we, and he rode off. We quickly found her parents and told them what had happened, to their amusement. It occurs to me only now that it may very well have been her father who sent the mounty to find us!