What exactly the young journalist was looking for, I still don't know for certain. Perhaps the answer to her question lies in the question itself. . .
You see, Pearson's Town was virtually unknown to many on campus this last semester. Only in the last few months has much of the student body become aware our existence. Slowly we are seeing more and more visitors from the school come across the road to visit or help out with the daily chores.
During the summer most of the farm is in plain sight; everything is above ground, green growing and not terribly mysterious, except maybe at the cellular level. The winter is a completely different story. With a couple of feet of snow on the ground you just don't see much growing. Even in the hoops, where things are alive, growth is retarded by the temperatures and short periods of day light. What on earth is a farmer to do in these conditions. Cabin fever is likely to be the end for many, especially myself. So we had to find a place to grow things. . .
Our "garden" that we set up in the cellar of one of the school's buildings was originally dubbed 'The Hidden Garden', simply because it was in an obscure part of the campus and far from any sort of student traffic. While 'hidden' sounds fun, the word 'secret' always seems to perk up people's sense of curiosity. Curiosity might lead to more questions, that might lead to more answers that might make more folks aware that we are here. . .
So, the 'Hidden Garden' slowly became 'The Secret Garden'. The folks whose feet we work beneath seem amused by our comings and goings. They even bring people down to our 'secret' layer. Maybe someday I should warn them about the ghosts that mingle amongst the plants. . .
. . . and the carnivorous mice. But that is another tale.