I love to visit Dallas Arboretum when it's all dressed up in its Sunday best. After places of worship empty, couples and families appear clasping quilts, coolers, and picnic baskets. Hardly do they enter when the kids spot a wide expanse of grass and streak for it - lace and ribbons and little ties flying.

"Come back here right now!" parents shout, casting furtive glances for frowning garden gendarmes ready to shoo youngsters off grass. None appear. None will. So the kids will romp across the grass, bordered by the fragile beauty of 400,000 bulbs.

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