Rus Articles Journal

The elements of the sparkling whiteness of

Where are still pure snow? Where the winter autocratically reigns?

it is remarkable to p to leave the city, to look for such magic places where it is breathed by a full breast where attract with the concealed life coniferous forests, the ice rivers and lakes.

On two invaluable days off we receive the manumission, and we can dash away in a blizzard of impressions.

From everyday slush and a dullness - in the sparkling whiteness.

Already kilometers separate us from a sickly civilization: from traffic jams, dirty roads, sad thoughts, infinite office cares and school lessons.

We are healthy, free and careless

as wind. Such beautiful and young, in the long ago tired of waiting ski suits, dashing hats and points “and - la the mountain skier“.

In an anticipation of distant running, we lace up boots, vigorously we get up on skis, and... about a long-awaited instant! … already we fly from hills, landing who as will manage, get up, we otryakhatsya as young puppies, and having again made a start sticks from the earth, we slide and we slide on a native lake kingdom.

we swam Here in the summer and to think did not think that we will go as polar bears, on the water sleeping under ice. On the middle of the lake we meet the patient fishermen packed into polyethylene, guarding the happiness. They should not disturb. Further.

Here we climb up a hillock. In the summer it was the island of Love. We learn tiny plyazhik. Here in June we bathed and cooked a fish soup, sang songs and listened to birds. Efficient winter birds are silent, only crows will not calm down in any way.

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On all lake over ice the snow carpet is outspread, it is possible to go on it infinitely. There on other party the wood dozes.

for

It is offensive, but we are already tired and we come back to the small lodges which got lost in the White Sea. Short rest - a photo for memory.

A us is already waited by the most fascinating, exotic winter hobby.

Near a snowdrift the Lynx hid . In the first brave couple we saddle it.

Children squeal. We rush on slightly planned route forward. The whirlwind in a face, the breath away takes, heart fights and with pleasure fades, the world is open towards. The forgotten elements carry away us on snow-white wings for the horizon, and can be in the childhood? Here hill, snowdrift, lake, dissatisfied fishermen, wood., everything merged to snow falls. We fly back. Rise abruptly up.

Welcome shouts. Waits in us line of eager. Everyone wants to saddle a red predator, and already someone flies to a snowdrift, losing in flight of a button, and being gathered by sharp impressions.

Bear a thick strong rope. Fix to the Lynx. Skiers are built a long chain. We cling to a rope. In a fun anticipation, our trainer presses gas. The rope stretches, skis are torn forward, we do not keep up with them. The weak link falls, on it fly the others, and it is already the heap is small. Again we get up, we undertake a rope, it is already less of us, we spring legs, and several meters we fly at a wonderful speed while again we do not fall one after another. The champion remains standing, passes all, waves to us mislaid in snow and with triumph disappears in a snowdrift. Nobody manages to resist standing.

it is easier than

- easier children! The animal already overheated, and has to have a rest. We go to drink tea. And the winter lives and fights in our veins. Now we do not depend on weather, epidemics and city fatigue.

our Thoughts are clear to

, and the head is turned by happiness.

Ahead whole revival.