An avenue of oaks in spring, with the house at the end of it.

The difference here is the ground. This avenue is grass rather than road, mown and running clean down the middle, which makes the whole thing feel less like a drive and more like a room. The oaks arch over from both sides with moss hanging off them, and the new leaves are still that pale yellow-green they only are for a few weeks. At the far end, framed dead center in the gap, there is a white house with a portico.

Green on green with one white shape. The freshest of the oak frames.