The life-affirming awakening of nature after winter sleep colorfully describes the composition on the theme of “Trekking”. The fertile black soil of the fields, the spring greens of the penetrating grass, the joyful bird’s polyphony and the virgin purity of the first snowdrops not only lifted the mood to the boys, but also gave each of them a powerful impetus to new achievements.
On my spring break, my father invited me to go out of town, to admire the awakening Nature of his native land. Early in the morning, collecting rucksacks, we moved to the side of urban new buildings, a kilometer away from which began the Birch Grove.
Blackened by the fat black soil, the field was plowing the tractor, moving back and forth, parallel to each other. The country road briskly green with a young, sticking mischievous hedgehog, grass. We walked along it, breathing in full chest with the invigorating, morning air. Our family trip was permeated with the dizzying Fluids
of the spring mood.
Thin trunks of elegant birches whitened behind the edge of the field in orderly rows, waving shaking, flowing in the wind, wavy strands of crowns. The closer we approached, the stronger our hearts pounded and the breath from the virgin purity and, trembling in the morning haze, the clarity of the birch grove filled with the mysterious whisper of the young foliage.
The dry cripple gaily crunched beneath our feet, guarding the fearful birds, looking curiously at the unexpected guests. Through the indiscriminate network of broken branches, covering paths that run up in all directions, the forest motley grass, ready for a blossoming bloom, made its way. A light, mixed Aroma of spring flowers was already coming from him. enveloping slender trunks of birches with a fragrant plume.
Suddenly, before us, a festive tablecloth was spread with an oval lawn full of bright white snowdrops. Slightly trembling on graceful, thin legs, they reverently looked at the affectionate, Spring sun. turning to him his trembling, velvety heads. We, of course, did not disrupt them, so as to not break the eternal
harmony of nature with our rude interference.
The white trunks of the birch trees became moist beneath the warming, sunbeams, flowing with the transparent, large tears of their famous, birch sap. We lapped it with the tips of our tongues with smooth, like polished, bark and enjoyed the sweetish taste of crystal drops with a barely perceptible hint of tart bitterness.
Resting on a fallen log, amidst all this fascinating splendor, we set out on our return journey, trying to capture in memory every moment of our wonderful and cognitive journey into the wonderful spring forest.