me on my hands and the whole complex to myself in the warmth of the mid-afternoon so it was a pleasure to simply wander at will exploring the many nooks and crannies admiring what once was and imagining what time had erased.
Flower in the crannied wall,
I pluck you out of the crannies,
I hold you here, root and all, in my hand,
Little flower- but if I could understand
What you are, root and all, and all in all,
I should know what God and man is.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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