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Our nature is decorated with many wonders; some are artificial and some are not. every soul living here has at least smelled beautiful place once in their lifetime. the place which I love the most remind me of our lovely visit to Hindenburg, where there is a famous historical architecture, which keeps the place alive in my heart.
At first, I entered the front garden, the smell of ruins hugged my lungs, I never smelled any kind of smell like that before.
there were trees which cuddled the scenic beauty was decorated with strong pink and purple flowers hanging from them. the sound of water from the fountain mesmerized my heart. my body felt as light as a tissue flying in the air. the sleeping pathway underneath my foot licked the grass, and the songs of the finches were glued everywhere. as I went through, a great two-story building of architecture stood in front of me, with red-stone bricks added the spice to this wonderful, completely stunning.
our souls are always living a modern life, but the great architect blew all the curtains from my heart away. The oil-stained door was also a source of wonder for me, with the old cracked windows which were silently sleeping. the bushes glittered everywhere with peaches and flowers hanging from them. who said we are living a lonely life? there is no use if you are one of the sleeping bodies licking the pillows.
The guide there allowed us in, three steps enough to wake up the quietness in the house.
in fact, the wood which was used way before for making floors were having nails bent at every corner. the dust awaited their fate in the house, a feeling arose in e, and that was, ‘ are we the first ones to enter in this house after the old ones left?’. The fire-place which was in front of me blocked the beauty of the dusty house and there were unswept remains of wood left near the fire-place. the sound of yelling tourists outside stole the spirit of the beauty of the old house. the staircase was too old which can hardly hold anyone on it, so the extra description remained unrevealed for me. I heard water dripping on the rooftop, which made the Turkish painting cry out of ink.
Next, we headed for outside, the clouds shadowed the tourists, happily. the pile of rocks sitting on the front porch came under our feet as the earthy paradise kept pulling the tourist towards it. The tree at the other hand was leafless, as the variety of flowerers attracted the honey bees. the drizzle was sweet enough to make the trees and the bushes wave ridiculously. the church bell rang, time to leave, the place crammed with mayhem was now making a beeline for the bus. I looked back, I felt, I was leaving behind something that had become a part of me. I looked ahead, I was carrying a treasure full of awe and wonder.
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