I remember my grandfather used to tell me - nature sings to those who know how to listen. When I was still little, I did not understand the meaning of these words, but every time I heard them, something in me vibrated. I began to believe that there was something more behind the smell of rain, the patterns of a birch tree trunk, or a bee buzzing by. There is a lot of goodness and a natural need to take care of each other planted in nature, and at the same time in us.
Yesterday was the last day of July.
And today August is already waving at us. Spiders weave their webs from one grass to another, the hay and the rain-soaked earth smells, the scythes are crying while cutting grass... As if saying goodbye to summer. My summer...
I ran barefoot in a dry, sunburned meadow, on a dazzling yellow stubble meadow. It hurts... Thousands of shards of broken hope penetrate the feet. The hot sun dries my footprints in the yellow field. Barefoot on stubble from Summer to Autumn.
Let's not rush.
Let's stop.
Let's hear how summer nature sings.
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All photos are original.
