Every summer, I spent my vacation at my grandmother's place. She lived near the beach, where friendly dolphins and graceful humpbacks swam. Grandma's house was painted autumn leaf and surrounded by lily-white fences. It was an old house, a gingerbread house. Grandpa inherited it from his father and now that grandpa had gone home to God, grandma lived by herself.
It was a five-hour drive. I occasionally stopped to grab some food from the convenience store. Finally after a long, tiring drive, I began to small the salty air. My mind began to see the passionflower colored water, white sand, and the gingerbread house. The white picket fence came to view and I began to feel lighthearted and excited. I parked my tar-black Sedan and went inside grandma's pretty little world. The gate creaked as I opened it and my nose was suddenly tickled with its sweet-smelling things.
I noticed her beautiful, magical yard with snapdragons, iris, and crocus. Suddenly, between the bushes of red and pink roses appeared a head of silver flowing curls.
"Grandma!" I called and ran to her.
Grandma's lovely, wrinkled face brightened. She immediately dropped the hose and wiped her hands on her granny dress.
"Amanda!" I ran into her outstretched arms and buried my face on her soft bosom. I felt wonderful to come to those comforting arms.
"You're a very lovely young lady," Grandma greeted me. "How are you?"
"I'm fine and you?" I asked. "And this, I love it!"
I twirled around in her beautiful garden.
"Let's go inside. I baked you your favorite." Grandma said as she winked at me.
"Blueberry cheesecake!" We chorused and laughed as she opened the front door.
At first light, we walked on the seashore and watched the enchanting sunrise. We talked about a...