Warm greeting, the friends of hive.“The moss covered the forest like a green carpet that dried steps and thoughts. Right under the birch's leg stood a beak, quiet, patient, not intrusive to anyone.
Farther between the trees, a basket was already visible, as a promise that this meeting would not last forever. But now she was still free, not small, but proud as a gem.
The forest breathed with autumnal peace. And between the smell of moss, there was a feeling that each beak has its own story, you just have to lean and listen. ”
