Comments about Melonie Andrews
As i sit here all alone in the middle of nature surrounded by the fumes of oak trees and the fragrance of wet grass. Through the whispering of the winters wind and the 'tug, tug' of a rusty door it almost feels like the door needs to tell me something of an old couple who's life's they might have lived here for many years. The hum of the wind on the porch outside the leaves and trees singing through joufulness of the coming of the rain, waited for so long.
The fair pictures of nature in this old cottage remind me of the beauties once out there. But where did it go? Or do i not see the...