A Place In Different Seasons The place to be described is totally imaginary, although it may bear some similitude to a childhood memory of yours. The dramaturgy and surrounding field and mountains (for it is these I will endeavour to describe in assorted seasons) are so exquisitely picturesque: The long, wide, oak slatted cabin with the rolling fields stretching far into the distance, and beyond. Behind the nursing home (as I like to call it) is an expanse of some troika hundred or so yards before abruptly gamey to make way for a stream. The stream is like oneness time itself forgot, like the one you would expect to find fairies seated by.
Beyond that the vast mountain range, ominous against a pass water blue sky and casting definite shadows across the house and fields. The snow-capped peaks are those that I have climbed many a time; and they always seem to be different in contour or shape. There is a beautiful clam chestnut tree just two fields out-of-door from the house, and countless others dotted ar...If you want to get a to the full essay, order it on our website:
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