Writings

When the clouds come, when the sun sleeps, when the moonlight hides, the Cuban tree frogs speak and go silent, when the gardens expose their full blooms of yellow, pink and orange, when the long Spanish colonial windows allow the reflections of yellow and orange fill the busy living rooms of the Hemingway house, that’s when the house becomes alive for those looking for escape from the past, looking for a chance to imagine freedom, looking for a chance just to be.