This image is like visiting old relations in your childhood, stepping into a place time forgot, where they don't care that the world has rushed on and modernized itself. It's a discovery of yesteryear, when buildings were built with charm and gardens were cultivated lovingly by the generations that lived inside them. When Grandmother baked on the Aga because it was going to keep the house warm, when Grandpa had every imaginable tool in his shed for every imaginable job on the place. Harmoniously swagged in autumn the old brick walls glorious display their ancient Ivy blanket of leafy vines. The old wooden wheelbarrow lays exactly where Grandpa parked it all those years again, forgotten by the present, ever waiting for the old mans return. Reflecting the friendly neighborhood, the shinning paneled widow elusively hides the inner house from view, is Grandma in the kitchen still, Pa in his slippers on the couch? I'd like to peak and see... SKILL LEVEL: Medium
