Lithuania in October at the border with Belarus / Lithuania in October on the border with Belarus
I am in a grove, autumn, in early October. Since a morning drizzle was falling thick and replaced from time to time by the splendor of the warm sun, the leaves rustled just above my head, only the noise would be enough to identify the year. It was not the happy beat, happy spring, nor the faint whisper and chatter prolonged summer nor so cold and babble of the late autumn, but a sleepy buzz, barely audible. A slight breeze blowing gently on the tops of the trees.
The interior of the grove, dampened by the rain, changed constantly, depending on whether the sun shone or hid behind the clouds, lit up when he was smiling as if the whole grove: the leaves have already painted their autumn color similar to that overripe grapes, changed suddenly ablaze with gold and scarlet, letting light through, confusing and overlapping before his eyes. Then suddenly everything is darkened: the bright colors they died instantly, and the sly, slyly, a fine rain was pouring on the forest murmuring. The foliage of some trees was still almost all green, though visibly pale; Only here and there, slender young trees, all red or all gold: it was a sight to see them catch fire in the sun when its rays infiltrated suddenly, sliding and flickering through the dense network of thin twigs just glistening wet from the rain.
(Taken, with some free gear, from "Memoirs of a Hunter" by I. Turgenev)
0 comments:
Post a Comment