The path's unexpected ending

A path I have walked many many times, a path I cannot walk again. Passing a clear blue sky free of clouds and an explosion of flowers in the colors of the rainbow... It leads to a place completely unexpected.

The surrounding houses there display great character and carry themselves so well. They stand as remainders of tradition, honor and excellence.

After a longer gradual uphill or short steep staircase, you enter a park flourishing with diverse beauties. Of course the flowers are blue, but at least laughter can be heard. During daytime the playground is occupied by energetic little ones, parkbenches of the early 19th century are occupied by ladies passionately discussing trivial matter and young boys (not at school) enjoying their youth. At night, mystic people and secrecies lurk in the park, which I have not really explored, but they are eccentric and exciting. ~ An ambiance anything but bleak.

Passing a river of sparkling blue water. There you find voluptuous trees, some with big branches and grand deep green leaves in all shapes. They usually leave a shaddow on the grass below them in the face of a bright summer sun. This is why people picknic underneath them, protected below from the burning sun by its leaf-branches. Although what strikes me the most is how massive the bridge is and begin to think how ironic it is that I have only passed the bridge by car and never actually walked over it myself...

Towards the end you finally arrive into the arms of angelic hospitality, in which it does not ever matter if you are inside looking out...