TODAY'S TRAVEL PHOTO OF YESTERYEAR:
I entered a seemingly untamed greenwood when I crossed the little footbridge. Immediately immersed in the styled chaos that the English landscape garden was to me. Conscious, suddenly, of the romantic surroundings, I felt my stride adjust to a slower, more elegant pace. For everything around me; the grass, secluded little picnic spots, the water stream, the summer air; seemed to reflect those pretty paintings you come across during Winter library hunts. When you sit wrapped in scarves dreaming of Summer's picnics again. As if walking through such a romanticized impression of a German summer, I continued in my dainty little floral dress and lace-inspired white parasol. But I soon stopped to admire reflected trees in the stream, and my mind drifted off, placing me back in an eighteenth century dream. There I stood: still, completely in love with the wonderful woodland. With absolutely no immediate idea that I was in the middle of a city.
- SUMMER PICNICS; ENGLISH CONFESSIONS -
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