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 through proniknuty by light and by heat. Color of horizon, light, pale- violet, it does not change during entire day and it is around identical; nowhere it grows dark, thunderstorm does not thicken; perhaps somewhere will be lengthened from top to bottom the bluishstrips: that will be sown hardly noticeable rain. These clouds disappear toward the evening; the latter of them, blackish and not determined, as smoke, they lie down by pink clubs opposite the setting sun; on the spot, where it was rolled so quietly, as quietly it ascended the sky, ruby-colored siyan'e stands brief time above the darkened earth, I, quietly blinking, as the with great care carried candle, evening star will light itself on it. All are softened during such days of paint; they are bright, but they are not bright; on everything lies the press some of touching gentleness. During such days of heats it is sometimes is very strong, sometimes even "steams" on the slopes pour on; but wind accelerates, the accumulated intense heat separates, and vortex- rotations - the undoubted sign of a constant weather - by high white posts go for a walk along the roads through the plowedland. In dry and pure air it smells ice-hole, by the compressed rye, by buckwheat; even per hour to the night you do not feel dampness. A similar weather desires farmer for the harvesting of bread...

I reached finally the angle of forest, but there there was no road whatever: some nekoshenye, low bushes widely spread before me, and after them, daleko-daleko, and desert field was seen. I again stopped. "That after parable? But yes where 4?"I began to recollect, as where it walked during the day... "3! Yes these are Parakhinskiye bushes! - It exclaimed 4 finally, - accurately! There this, must be, Sindeyevskaya grove... But yes as this I here did visit? So it is far? It is strange "! It is now again necessary to the right to take ".

I went to the right, through the bushes. Meanwhile the night approached and grew, as thunderstorm cloud; it seemed from everywhere it rose together with the evening pairs and even from the height flowed the darkness. To me fell some netornaya, the been overgrown path; I left on it, attentively casting looks forward. Everything around rapidly turned black and ceased, - some quail rarely shouted. Small night bird, it is inaudible and low- rushed on its flexible wings, almost it stumbled on me and fearful dived into the side. I left to the edge of bushes and wandered through the field byboundary. Already 4 with difficulty were distinguished the distant objects; field unclear became white all around; after it, with each instant being moved, by huge clubs rose sullen gloom. My steps in thickening air blindly returned. The turned pale sky began again to turn blue - but that there was already the dark blue of night. Asterisks flashed, they stirred on it.
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What I was it accepted for the grove, it proved to be dark and round mound. But "yes where this 4?"- It repeated 4 again aloud; it stopped third time and interrogative looked to its English yellow-speckled dog Dianku, decisively cleverest of all four-footed creatures. But cleverest of the four-footed creatures only wiggled by tail, despondently blinked by tired eyes and not podala to me any efficientcouncil. I became conscientious before it, and I desperately rushed forward, as if suddenly it surmised, where it was to be gone, mound went around and appeared in the shallow, around ploughed ...

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