The one place where man’s destructive ways had not had an impact, is in a small meadow just on the outskirts of the bustling city. The meadow itself was beautiful with its flowers dotting the landscape like a carefully planned Monet painting. Tall Patches of grass lay in the spaces where flowers have not grown. The grass hadn’t been kept for years. Overlooking the meadow stood an old oak tree with a rickety swing. The old oak tree was lonely with its years of neglect. At one time, one could have assumed the tree stood tall and strong as it watched children laughing and playing in the meadow, on the sturdy swing, or in its mighty branches. As the city grew and the meadow shrank the children began to forget the happy times. The laughing and playing was gone. As, the years passed, the tree looked like it became lonely and began to slump. The weather deteriorated the once sturdy swing. The only happiness that remains is the flowers that are dotting the meadow. Man has destroyed the medow, not by taring it apart, but by negliting and forgetting about the medow.
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