Entrance to restaurant made from native pink sandstone |
Hall outside our room |
Musings about Life, the Universe and Reality
There once was a land, no further away than your imagination. A Land where the Trees’ whispers can be heard on the wind. And the squirrels chitter and chatter as they scamper to and fro amongst the branches - playing their endless game of tag.
A Land where the Brooks babble endlessly amid fern covered banks. Fish and Tadpoles play a game of Leapfrog in the clear, cool water and Turtles sunbathe nearby.
A Land where the tall Grasses sway in the breeze as if dancing to a distant tune. Wild flowers wave their petals at the busy Bees who fly by; Beckoning to them. Enticing them.
A Land where the Deer graze peacefully in the lush, green valleys. A Land where the Birds and the Faeries gather in the bushes of an evening to share the day's gossip. And the Frog serenade, with Cricket accompaniment, continues well into the night.
A Land where the morning sun melts the night into the shadows of the day. And at sunset the shadows melt into night. But there are times when the shadows melt into things best left to one’s imagination.
A Land of Melting Shadows.
Entrance to restaurant made from native pink sandstone |
Hall outside our room |
4 comments:
Sounds like Cigar-Smoking Man was checking you out! Hey, did Teddy Roosevelt smoke cigars? Maybe it's HIS ghost!
Those ghosts must roll their eyes at the no smoking rule!
Spooky! And the fact that the basement was used as a morgue is all the more reason to expect hauntings. I liked this post very much!
That is the coolest!!!Would have loved to catch a glimpse of any "other guests" there. What a beautiful place!
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