"Good night," said the pretty flower to her friend, the tree.
"Good night," said the old tree.
Each was in a bed in the garden. They had neither sheets nor pillows, but sleep came to both, because they were natural.
To the flowers and the trees Mother Nature sings her lullaby of peace, peace of the blackest night, in which all may sleep tight. Who's afraid of the dark? Not the pretty flower or the old tree in the garden beds!