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Tagged: nature

Our chestnut

Without warning — two flashes. Thunder rolled across the sky, smoothly and tenderly, loving. And as if cued by a conductor’s baton, the rain came pouring down. Drops of water bounced off the iron sill with soft taps. I went to the window. Just in time to see the chestnut — our chestnut — shaken, beginning to shed everything past its bloom. Sodden flowers were pouring down with the rain onto the trash bins, onto the abandoned bicycles, onto the pathway no one had swept in a long time. But when it cleared, our chestnut stood unchanged. In full bloom, as if nothing happened. The evening grew brighter than the day.

Acorns in the lake

Along the bank of a forest lake, following its every turn and curve, runs a path. Trees here grow on both its sides, some right on the edge of the bank, dark trunks and roots washed by the water. The path is dim, and you won’t immediately notice the oaks hiding in places more suitable for willows, branches hanging over the lake. In September, acorns start to fall down. Some right into the lake, making a dull sound, disappearing forever in the brown water. Some on the shore and, occasionally, the heads of the passersby, who nevertheless brave the path, determined to enjoy the last warm days of the year.