General

Rustic cabins dotted the grassy hills as trees stood up like spikes, zigzagging the border of brick roads and unpolished homes. Rivers streamed through deep valleys.

By Maximus Daggerman, March 18, 2014.
General

My aunt would say, "Come! Let us take the iron horses and leave the real ones to play in the pastures and forests." So we went biking often, through the country that was a canvass for the seasons, a theatre for the birds who played upon wing.