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Conger Reynolds correspondence, April 1918
1918-04-13 Conger Reynolds to Daphne Reynolds Page 2
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old timber. On each side runs an old stone wall covered with moss. Two days of warmth have burst the buds of the fruit trees, and all along there were loads of apple-blossoms and plum-blossoms and peach-blossoms hanging over the walls with the wild flowers blooming beneath them at the roadside. The air was fairly drugged with their perfume - and the scent of the pines and the mosses beneath them. And the birds were singing. La-la! as the French exclaim, it was fine! I emerged on the meadow on the ridge, crossed it to the highway, and followed it back. Much of it is cut into the face of the hillside with the slope rising abruptly on the one hand and dropping away to sheer on the other that the tops of the pines only a few feet out are barely on the level of the outer retaining wall. It is a road much favored for walks. Every little way are stone seats where the weary can pause to rest and to enjoy the panorama below. It overlooks the beautiful valley flat and the village nestling in the far curve. What a picture it is. The grass is simply like bright green velvet and the cultivated fields are strips of golden brown. Peasants picking greens beside the meandering stream look like pygmies so far below. It was too pretty for words. I stood on the wall at one particularly favorable spot drinking it in
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old timber. On each side runs an old stone wall covered with moss. Two days of warmth have burst the buds of the fruit trees, and all along there were loads of apple-blossoms and plum-blossoms and peach-blossoms hanging over the walls with the wild flowers blooming beneath them at the roadside. The air was fairly drugged with their perfume - and the scent of the pines and the mosses beneath them. And the birds were singing. La-la! as the French exclaim, it was fine! I emerged on the meadow on the ridge, crossed it to the highway, and followed it back. Much of it is cut into the face of the hillside with the slope rising abruptly on the one hand and dropping away to sheer on the other that the tops of the pines only a few feet out are barely on the level of the outer retaining wall. It is a road much favored for walks. Every little way are stone seats where the weary can pause to rest and to enjoy the panorama below. It overlooks the beautiful valley flat and the village nestling in the far curve. What a picture it is. The grass is simply like bright green velvet and the cultivated fields are strips of golden brown. Peasants picking greens beside the meandering stream look like pygmies so far below. It was too pretty for words. I stood on the wall at one particularly favorable spot drinking it in
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