The meadow

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The meadow

There was excellent July day, one of those days, which occur only then, when weather was established for a long time. The sky is clear from the earliest morning; morning dawn does not blaze by the fire: it spills by gentle bloom. Sun - not fiery, not incandesced, as during the hot drought, not dim- crimson, as before grow brown, but bright and peacefully floats under the narrowband long cloudlet, fresh will brighten and will be immersed and its violet fog. Upper, thin edge of the extended cloudlet will begin to sparkle by snakes; their luster is such to the luster of forged silver... But the playing rays here again gushed out, - and gaily it is stately, as if taking off, heavenly body rises more powerfully. Many round high clouds usually appear about noon, golden- grey, with the tender white edges. It is similar to islands, scattered along the infinitely spilled river, flowing around by their deeply transparent sleeves of flat dark blue, they barely move; further, to the horizon, they are shifted, they crowd, the dark blue between them to no longer see; but themselves they are so azure, as the sky: they everything right