landscape

  The rich, sweet smell of the hayricks rose to his chamber window; the hundred perfumes of the little flower-garden beneath scented the air around; the deep-green meadows shone in the morning dew that glistened on every leaf as it…

  Buy land, they’re not making it anymore. — that Mark Twain guy said that

  Let your love be like the misty rains, coming softly, but flooding the river. — i don’t know who said that

  first there was Evie, a 1974, yellow Volkswagen Beetle (pictured under the tree in a previous image) then, there was Liesl, a 1960, beryl green Volkswagen Beetle now, i’ve sold them both always name your cars a beautifully appropriate…

  Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer’s day, listening to the murmur of the water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a waste of…