The Crescent

The Crescent momentsatbay

I never knew that the crescent alley would take me to the core of such charming greenery. The stone-laden wall, like a constant companion of the passageway, moved along with it and the fissure there—where once some wayward birdie perhaps had lodged a seed and then subsequently lost it there—had widened into a big crater for the once small twig had grown over time into a big tree with its heavy trunk standing like a grave sentinel protecting the green. The canopy was defined in sweet foliage where through the sky light could not be seen. Such was its density. But when in day the light did penetrate through it, the spot received a greenish tinge. The alley was green every inch where the eyes could rest for eternity.

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