Paradise apples

Do you remember the apple tree at the gate of your house? The houses where you grew up, the houses where you dreamed.... Do you remember the cracked blue paint of the walls, which played so interestingly in the sun with different bizarre patterns.... Do you remember the swallows sitting on the wires of the blue sky? Do you remember the smell? The smell of ripe apples, the smell of fruits, the freshness of early autumn? Do you remember dreams? Do you remember pure good dreams?
Such works are rarely born, such works must be felt, lived .... The idea must mature, infuse inside, and only when it has designed it comes out to tell us about something of its own, about something of yours, about something personal and dear, note that you see, you feel, only you understand)))) The warmth of the Good of the World and the purity of thoughts))))