My back porch on an early summer morning is my sanctuary. The small Dijon mustard colored brick rectangle extension about the woods and the hunt down sits off the back of the house. The argona is isolated and peaceful. There are no goods of human life to alter nature. After wake in the mornings, I remove the sleep from my tired eyeball and toss to the small warming porch. I enjoy this clipping exclusively to gather my thoughts and feelings for the day. The old iron furniture squeaks and wobbles chthonian me. The emerald drawing leaves from the ferns wave with the wind, as if to say good morning. The radiator grille adds scents of a pleasant strut of last nights barbeque and charcoal. freshly brewed drinking chocolate and the sharp smell of smoked cigarettes also mix with the smell of summer in the air. Sitting on the dew dampish chairs and auditory modality to the wind as it brushes with softness is calming. Bright albumen animated surfaceles me for a mo ment as I start to commove for a new day. The squirrels start to come come in and play peek-a -boo. The trees tower and close together as they facial expression in the wind. The crispness of the air has an aroma of sweet summer flowers and earthworms.
The grimy green tin building stands on the asperity of the woods. The squirrels climb over the building like children playing in the yard. A few clashes of sticks and acorns across the tin roof give-up the ghost like waves against the ocean. I look further to the side and jar with a fresh vegetable garden growing. The beautiful desolate green color of the ga rden has specks of buttery yellow with dee! p red and brilliant orange breaking through. The garden has a wide variety of vegetables; the tomato plants stand tall as soldiers watching guard over the patch, letting me know I am safe. Rectangular SanctuaryIf you want to get a near essay, order it on our website:
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