"Let's take a walk in the lawn, shall we?".
"Thanks for coming along. Now, as you tread alongside me to the beautiful, sprawling garden decorating the main entrance of 4, Tolstoy Road, just feel the sounds, sights, smells and sensations that surround you. Feel the sand sifting beneath your feet on the red dusty path that leads to the lawn. Listen to the sound of the birds. Can you hear the 'cuck-oo cuck-oo' from the back and the chirping that envelopes your senses as you walk past the miniature white marble waterfall towards your right? Can you hear the faint splash of water hitting the surface. The tuneful tweets of birds suddenly being overpowered by the roar of a bus racing outside on the main road? We are almost there inside the lawn. A narrow, rugged stone path forays into the lawn. As you step on the harsh, coarse stone you can feel the irregular edges jutting out of the tile and pinching your feet. The lawn though is reasonably well manicured and maintained. On your left a green wall of small plants rise to your waist, and running perpendicular to it is a group of tall elms that stand firm forming a boundary. The fragrance of wet mud and frilly leaves fills your nostrils and the striking shades of green overwhelm your vision.
As you step on the grass, feel the surface beneath. It is certainly softer, gentler than the rocky pathway, but it still feels rough under the hot, baking sun, that burns it. Can you feel the raging sun parching your neck and blazing your back? The grass burns too, it is a mix of gold and green waiting for a good shower to cool it down and quench its thirst. A modest breeze blowing across brings relief from the sun as it plays ever so slightly with your hair and flirts gently with your face. The leaves and branches sway languidly as it flows through them, it moves quietly like a whisper. Ever so often a car vrooms past the old, dilipidated house that stands behind the lawn, and the constant hum of an air conditioner adds a measure of mechanical to the natural."
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