Supposedly there was a Festival of the Americas in Casa de Campo.
We made it as far as this pond and no further.
Spring foliage.
Poof ball tree.
Instead of riding his bicycle uphill, Winston walked the entire mile and a half back.
It's only May and the flush of new grass has already dried up. The pods were poking me through the mesh of my running shoes. I had plenty of time to pick them out and to dream up arty photographs.
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