The Shire is my home. Sitting on the window ledge, I can see the leaves of my oak tree and the flowers waiting for its wisdom and teachings. I can see the sun shining through the iridescent rainbow-colored flowers to every angle. The brown oak for my oak tree stands still in the sun as woodpeckers hammer it with energy. As birds make it their home, the sun’s radiance bounces off their wings, shining on the grass all around. In response, the grass sways in delight, entering in a musical conversation. In addition to the majestic chirps in the air, I can hear children from my neighborhood cheer in delight as they chase the glamorous butterflies all around. The butterflies seem to play tag with them as they avoid contact with the spirited infants from down below. While some butterflies embrace the bliss, others stop for the rich buttery nectar from the flowers below. Aided by the caress of the gentle wind, dandelion seeds fly across the exuberant butterfly wings and embark on a new adventurous journey. The wind also blows through the dry clean clothes dangling on the washing line, forcing them to grab on as tight as the claws of an eagle. The smell of dry clean clothes flows aimlessly across the air meeting with the aroma of fresh-baked bread from my oven, mixing affectionately like Romeo and Juliet. The mixed smell fills my nostrils and my mouth waters, overflowing on my soft, rosy lips. As I hop off the window ledge, my feet crunch the fallen leaves around me. The amiable grass pokes through the holes of my feet washing the dust off with water dew and toothpaste. The emerald grass and the decorative flowers compliment the mixture of smells, sights, sounds and feelings that cloud me, combining into one clear sense; the sense of home.