A charming summer night, an essay about which vividly describes its natural beauty, entered its rights on the outskirts of a quietly sleeping village. The eagle owl looked for prey, occasionally blinking a round yellow eye. A flock of bats bristled between the frozen cones. Furiously fragrant fruit and floral scents of wild gardens and forest glades.
The lilac sunset quietly died away, blurring along the distant horizon and dissolving into a light haze in, descending to its native expanses. evening mist. The black and purple sky began to turn on lonely, shimmering stars gathering in the constellations of constellations. A full moon with a silver ball rolled out from behind a high mountain, the outlines of which resembled a shaggy bear standing on its hind legs with open arms.
The indefatigable frogs croaked in, overgrown with malachite mold, a pond, scattered in circles around the swaying lunar reflection. Their melody was caught by the chirping of cicadas and tireless crickets, and all this cacophony was hovering over the ground, tangling in the hieroglyphs of the intertwined branches of multiple bushes and garden gardens.
In the very center of the pond a small boat swayed quietly, lowered into the dark water, with oars. A lone fisherman, lighting himself with a flashlight, was preparing to throw a bamboo fishing rod, glowing in the dark with neon flicker.
Somewhere in the distance an owl hooted away and immediately, in the bright light of the moon, a frightened gaggle, fluttering with webbed wings, flashed through the bats. A gust of wind picked up the spicy flavors of ripeness, the orchard and mixed them with the fragrance of flower beds.
The summer night lived with its magical life, full of an exciting premonition of sorcerous charms and magical transformations. With the first touch of dawn, the fairy Night curled up its starry veil and plunged into the depths of the pond, from which the pale moon flickered for a long time against the background of the purple-purple glow of dawn.