> Tales about Summer and about Summer
Summer is rightfully considered one of the most wonderful times of the year. After all, it is in the summer that nature reveals itself in all its glory - flowers bloom, trees rustle, green grass grows, berries and mushrooms ripen, warm summer rains fall. Summer was valued by our ancestors for its fertility. That is why tales about summer are of great importance, both in folklore and in Russian literature in general.
As you know, all fairy tales are endowed with an instructive message. And tales about summer for preschoolers are no exception. So, in the fairy tale “” it is said that belonging to a noble and rich family does not make a person wiser and more pious, and that a girl from a poor family can be wiser than any rich man.
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A middle-aged man, noticing the gray hair that shone in his curls, decided that he should choose a wife for himself. Now the time has come. He was the owner of the capital, and therefore could choose: everyone wanted to please him. He is in no hurry, however: After all, the matter here concerned marriage. Two widows acquired rights over the heart...
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Yes, in a thousand years the inhabitants of the New World will fly to our old Europe on wings of steam, through the air! They will come here to inspect the monuments and ruins, just as we are now inspecting the remains former greatness south Asia. They will fly to Europe in a thousand years! The Thames, the Danube, the Rhine will continue to flow; Mont Blanc...
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At the beginning of summer there are the longest days. For about twelve hours the sun does not leave the sky, and the evening dawn has not yet had time to fade in the west, when a whitish stripe already appears in the east - a sign of the approaching morning. And the closer you go to the north, the longer the days in summer and the shorter the nights. The sun rises high, high...
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I will never forget this winter evening. It was cold outside, the wind was strong, it cut your cheeks like a dagger, the snow was spinning with terrible speed. It was sad and boring, I just wanted to howl, and then dad and mom went to the movies. And when Mishka called on the phone and called me to his place, I immediately...
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We arrive at the airfield. The chief pilots invited us. Our entire class fit on one plane. Just a house, not a plane! If you want, sit, if you want, stand, do whatever you want! Valerka began to sing. Only when the plane buzzed did he suddenly stop singing for some reason. - Are we flying already? - asks. - Or not? Someone will shout: ...
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Chapter 1. Knock-knock-knock... The sun was already setting behind the nearest forest, sending its last golden rays to the inhabitants of a small but cozy village. Here, immersed in the greenery of tender birches and rowan trees, stands a house with painted mermaids on the shutters. Can't find it in the area better home no matter how hard you try. And all because...
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One day the cat Matroskin went into the forest to pick mushrooms. The year turned out to be unusually mushroom-filled. In the forest, birds whistle, squirrels jump, hares run. The forest is clean. It’s good in the yogurt forest, like in a park. Matroskin sees russula. Yes, so beautiful: red, green, and blue, like toys. - Hooray! - shouted...
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There is no such expanse in the forest as there is in the field; but it’s good to wear it on a hot afternoon. And what can you see in the forest! Tall, reddish pines hung their needle-like tops, and green fir trees arched their thorny branches. A white, curly birch tree with fragrant leaves flaunts; the gray aspen trembles; and stocky...
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Do you know how many months there are in a year? Twelve. What are their names? January, February, March, April, May, June, July, August, September, October, November, December. As soon as one month ends, another begins immediately. And it has never happened before that February came before January left, and May overtook...
A crane met a fox: “What, fox, can you fly?” -No I do not know how to. - Sit on me, I’ll teach you. The fox sat on the crane. The crane carried her away high, high. -What, fox, do you see the ground? -I can barely see: the ground looks like sheepskin! The crane shook her off. The fox fell on a soft place, on a hay pile. Crane...
They say that a fat horse is considered good, and a rich man is considered wise... I don’t remember who came up with this proverb. And my father doesn’t remember. And my father's father doesn't remember. And my grandfather’s grandfather, they say, did not remember. One thing is clear - this proverb was invented by the rich people of Noyon. They say, look, we are rich because we were born smart...
Now the bat only flies at night. And there was a time when she flew during the day. One day she flies at noon, and a proud hawk meets her. “Ah,” says the hawk, “it’s good that we met.” I've been looking for you for three years. - Why do you need me? – the bat was surprised. “I collect tribute from all the birds.” Everyone except you...
Once a peasant was walking through the forest. Either he was a forester, or something else, or he just went out for a walk. Suddenly he meets a devil in the forest. The devil goes straight to him: “Guess how old I am, you’ll get three bags of money.” The peasant thought that the money would be very useful to him, and even three whole bags. If only he could live! ...
It happened: Lapland sorcerers got into the habit of stealing our cattle, and sometimes people. They will kidnap people and force them to work as laborers for themselves. One day a man was sowing in a field. Suddenly he hears a loud noise, a crash. He looked back and saw: a tornado was coming straight towards him. Instantly the man found himself in a dusty cloud, dust filled his mouth, ...
Having finished creating the world, God asked man: - What should I make longer - summer or winter? The man replied: “Ask my friends the horse and the bull.” Let it be as they say. The god of the horse was the first to ask: “Would you like winter to be longer than summer or summer to be longer than winter?” “I would like to,” replied...
In a certain kingdom, in a certain state, there lived an old man and an old woman, and they had three sons. The youngest was called Ivanushka. They lived - they were not lazy, they worked from morning to night: they plowed the arable land and sowed grain. Suddenly bad news spread in that kingdom - state: a miracle - a filthy Yudo - was about to descend on their land...
In a certain kingdom, in a certain state, there lived a king and a queen, he had three sons - all young, single, the kind of daredevils that could neither be depicted in a fairy tale nor written with a pen; the youngest was called Ivan Tsarevich. The king says this to them: “My dear children, take an arrow for yourself, draw tight bows and...
Once upon a time there lived a husband and wife, and they had a daughter. The wife fell ill and died. The man grieved and grieved and married someone else. The evil woman disliked the girl, beat her, scolded her, and only thought about how to completely destroy her. One day the father left somewhere, and the stepmother said to the girl: “Go to my sister, your aunt, ...
Once upon a time there was a king Berendey, he had three sons, the youngest was called Ivan. And the king had a magnificent garden; There grew in that garden an apple tree with golden apples. Someone began to visit the royal garden and steal golden apples. The king felt sorry for his garden. He sends guards there. No guards can track the thief. ...
Far away, in the thirtieth state, he lived - there was a king and a queen; they had no children. The king traveled through foreign lands, to distant sides, and did not go home for a long time; At that time, the queen gave birth to a son, Ivan, a prince, but the king doesn’t even know about it. He began to make his way to his state, began to drive up...
Once upon a time there lived a peasant Ivan, and he had a wife, Marya. Ivan and Marya lived in love and harmony, but they had no children. So they grew old alone. They greatly lamented their misfortune and were consoled only by looking at other people’s children. There’s nothing to do! So, apparently, they were destined. One day when...
Summer is in full swing - it's time for relaxation and walks. But reading in the summer is an important part of relaxation. Some people read more in the summer, some less, but today we have a selection of fairy tales and stories about summer itself and what is connected with it (as usual, we don’t include poetry, otherwise there won’t be enough space on the page).
Let's start as usual:
Classic
Short works L.N. Tolstoy: “Hares”, “What dew happens on the grass” and “About ants”, “Squirrel and wolf”, “Quail and her children” and “How wolves teach their children”. These and many other classic children's works are in the collection “All the best fairy tales and stories.” In the Ozone In the Labyrinth From the famous series “Notes of a Hunter” A. Turgeneva the most “summer” story is “Bezhin Meadow” and in Sat. Ivan Turgenev “Bezhin meadow. Selected stories" In Ozone In the Labyrinth
Also his story “Quail”.
S. Aksakov. “Field strawberries” and “milk mushrooms”. (here are also stories by L. N. Tolstoy and Ushinsky, collection “How Trees Walk.” Illustrations by A. Lopatin. - 1989)
Summer fairy tale D. Mamin-Sibiryak from the series “Alyonushka’s Tales”: “The Tale of How Once Upon a Time last fly" In Ozone
Collection "Alenushka's Tales" In the Ozone In the Labyrinth
From the stories of an old hunter - “Adoptive”. Collection In Ozone
Short stories about nature in summer M. Prishvina“First Cancer”, “Dissatisfied Frog”, “Aspen Down”, “Red Cones”, “Anthill Stump”. “Sunset of the Year”, “Dark Forest”, “Overgrown Meadow”, “Rye is pouring”, “Spruce and Birch”, “Woodpecker”. “Forest Dwellings”, “At the Old Stump”.
And also M. Prishvin: “The Hedgehog” and other stories in the collection “Fox Bread” In the Ozone In the Labyrinth
Fairy tales Vitaly Bianchi. “Titmouse calendar - Summer” - In the Ozone In the Labyrinth Here are tales by month. “Bird Year” - “Nests”, “Eggs”, “Chicks”. “A conversation of birds at the end of summer” “Bear-head”, “How an ant hurried home”, In Ozone, “The Fly and the Monster” In the labyrinth.
K. Ushinsky"Summer", "Morning Rays". In the Ozone In the Labyrinth
K. G. Paustovsky “Golden Tench”, “Summer Days”, “Collection of Miracles”, “Dense Bear”, “Poetry of Rain” and many other stories in the collection “Basket with Fir Cones”. In the Ozone In the Labyrinth
Sladkov N. I. « Forest Tales"(there are different editions) In the Ozone In the Labyrinth
“June”: “Who can I help?”, “Forest hiding places”, “Cunning chicks”, “ Fun game"", "Pishchukhin Waltz", "Why is a finch a finch?", "Singing path", "Singing tree", "Foster child", "How the bear scared itself", "Lying stone", "Cormorant", "Pink swamp" , “The Nightingale and the Frog”, “The Cuckoo Years”, “The Crow’s Eye”, “The Nest Mushroom”, “Topic and Katya”, “The Third”, “A Delicate Dish”, “The Thieving Magpie”.
"July": "Naughty Kids", " Forest time"", "Shadow", "Adopters", "Greaves", "Serious bird", "Three eggs", "Starlings-healers", "Night hunters", "Chakanchik", "Knock-knock", "A hedgehog ran along the path "," Steep Measures ", " Karlukha ", " Self-Assembled Tablecloth ", " Berry Discovery ", " Honey Rain ", " First Flight ".
“August”: “Fedot, but not that one”, “Forest strongmen”, “Mysterious lake”, “Mysterious beast”, “Butterflies”, “Thoughtful woodpecker”, “Nightjar”, “Bird posts”, “Oak and wind” , “The Magpie's Treasure”, “The Duty”, “Grey Heron”, “The Toad King”, “Animal Bath”, “At the End of the Mysterious Forest...”, “The Eaten Egg”, “The Butterfly and the Sun”, “Nettle Happiness”.
G. Skrebitsky“Forest Echo”, “Forest Voice”, In the Labyrinth, both fairy tales in one book, “The Invisible Creak”.
A. Platonov“July Thunderstorm”, Fairy tale - true story “Unknown Flower”. In Labyrinth, the collection contains both stories.
I. Sokolov-Mikitov "Ants", "Spiders", "Chipmunk". Other stories, including “Summer”, “Russian Forest” are in the collection “A Year in the Forest” In the Ozone In the Labyrinth
Russian writers, already almost classics
R. Pogodin"Dubravka". (the book was published with the first subtitle “Stories about cheerful people and good weather”, but it is not on sale now).
Yu. Koval“Thunderstorm over a potato field”, “On a forest road”, “Nightingales”. Some of the summer stories are in the unique book with illustrations by Tatyana Mavrina “Butterflies”, another part is in the book “Sparrow Lake” (Exclusive until May 26, 2015)
E. Shim"Who's Hunting Whom". And other stories about nature, for example, “Bug on a String” In the Ozone in the Labyrinth
Many stories and fairy tales by Russian writers are devoted to the theme of children's summer holidays. Action of the story Victor Dragunsky "Top down, diagonally"! happens just in the summer. The heroes of this humorous work are preschool children who were left alone without adult supervision. There is, for example, in this collection of Deniskin’s stories: In the Ozone In the Labyrinth
You can also read about summer holidays and children's adventures at N. Nosova in the stories “Knock-knock-knock”, “Cucumbers” and “Gardeners”. The works tell about the friendship and adventures of boys who went to summer camp. " Big Book stories" In the Ozone In the Labyrinth
One of the books by a modern author E. Uspensky about Prostokvashino dedicated summer vacation- book “Uncle Fyodor and Summer in Prostokvashino.” In the Ozone In the Labyrinth
And in the fairy tale “Down the Magic River” E. Uspensky talks about summer holidays boy Mitya, who went to visit a fairyland, about his unusual adventures, meeting with fairy-tale characters and much more. Edition with illustrations by V. Chizhikov In the Ozone In the Labyrinth
There are two instructive tales, which also take place in the summer. These are the fairy tales “The Seven-Flower Flower”, “The Stump”, “Mushrooms”, “The Pipe and the Jug”. In the Ozone In the Labyrinth
M. Plyatskovsky"Sunshine as a souvenir". In the Ozone In the Labyrinth
V. Berestov"Honest caterpillar."
Probably in the summer you will want to re-read many fairy tales V. Suteeva, for example, “Live Mushrooms”, “Under the Mushroom” and other fairy tales - one of the complete collections of fairy tales In Ozone In The Labyrinth
There is something about summer and G. Tsyferova: “Big Dandelion”, “Ant Ship”. You can buy “Baby Fairy Tales”.
Many fairy tales Sergei Kozlov related to the summer theme: “Magic herb St. John's wort”, “You fly! I flap my wings”, “Clean Birds”, “Hare and Little Bear”, “By the Stream”, “Such a Tree”, “On the Hottest Sunday That Was in the Forest”, “Robbers”, “Hare Ears”, “Little Warm rain”, “Heel”, “Chamomile”. You can buy “The Big Book of Fairy Tales”, “Tales about the Lion Cub, the Turtle and the Hedgehog in the Fog” in Ozone in the Labyrinth
U S. Mogilevskaya There is a series “Seven colorful fairy tales”, five of which are summer. “About Mashenka and the Pea” In the Ozone In the Labyrinth
Modern authors
E. Kuznetsova"The Tale of Lethe and His Sons".
N. Pavlova"Cunning dandelion."
D. Pinsky"Sun",
N. Abramtseva"Silence please",
K. Evtyukov"Frog School Holiday"
A. Lukyanova"The Tale of the Green Leaf"
M. Sidenko"Blue-Eyed Hermit Crab."
And more fairy tales N. Abramtseva“Summer Gifts”, “Sunny Tale”, “Red Tale”.
E. Alder"A Tale of Summer".
T. Cheremnova(from the life of little animals).
T. Vershinina“Frying”, “Dandelions” .
T. Domarenok— Fairy tales and stories for children from the “Summer” series, for example, “Forest Thunderstorm”.
Stories about summer for middle school children school age. Stories about the summer of Sergei Aksakov and Konstantin Ushinsky.
Sergey Aksakov
EARLY SUMMER
Spring has passed. The nightingale finished its last songs, and almost all the other songbirds stopped singing. Only the bluethroat was still mimicking and distorting the voices and cries of all sorts of birds, and even that was soon to fall silent. Some larks, hanging somewhere in the sky, invisible to human eyes, scattered their melodic trills from above, enlivening the sleepy silence of the sultry, silent summer. Yes, the vociferous spring has passed, a time of carefree fun, songs, love! The “summer turns” have passed, that is, June 12; the sun turned to winter, and summer to heat, as the Russian people say; The business time has come for birds, the time of vigilant worries, incessant fears, instinctive self-forgetfulness, self-sacrifice, the time of parental love. The songbirds have hatched children, it is necessary to feed them, then teach them to fly and protect them every minute from dangerous enemies, from birds of prey and animals. There are no more songs, but there is a cry; this is not a song, but a speech: father and mother constantly call out, call, beckon to their stupid cubs, who answer them with a plaintive, monotonous squeak, opening their hungry mouths. Such a change, which took place in just two weeks, during which I did not leave the city, greatly amazed and even saddened me...
Konstantin Ushinsky
SUMMER
At the beginning of summer there are the longest days. For about twelve hours the sun does not leave the sky, and the evening dawn has not yet had time to fade in the west, when a whitish stripe already appears in the east - a sign of the approaching morning. And the closer you go to the north, the longer the days in summer and the shorter the nights.
The sun rises very, very high in the summer, not like in the winter: a little higher, and it would be right above your head. The almost vertical rays heat it up greatly, and by midday they even burn mercilessly. It's approaching noon; the sun climbed high into the transparent blue vault of the sky. Only here and there, like light silver lines, are visible cirrus clouds - harbingers of constant good weather, or buckets, as the peasants say. The sun can no longer go higher and from this point it will begin to descend to the west. The point from which the sun begins to decline is called noon. Stand facing noon, and the side you are looking at will be south, to the left, where the sun rose, is east, to the right, where it slopes, is west, and behind you is north, where the sun never appears.
At noon, not only is it impossible to look at the sun itself without a strong, burning pain in the eyes, but it is difficult even to look at the brilliant sky and earth, at everything that is illuminated by the sun. The sky, the fields, and the air are filled with hot, bright light, and the eye involuntarily seeks greenery and coolness. It's too warm! Light steam flows over the resting fields (those on which nothing has been sown this year). This warm air, filled with vapors: flowing like water, it rises from the highly heated earth. That is why our smart peasants talk about such fields that they rest under fallow. Nothing moved on the tree, and the leaves, as if tired of the heat, hung. The birds hid in the wilderness; livestock stops grazing and seeks coolness; a person, drenched in sweat and feeling very exhausted, leaves work: everything is waiting for the fever to subside. But bread, hay, trees need this heat.
However, long drought is harmful for plants that love warmth, but also love moisture; It’s hard for people too. That is why people rejoice when storm clouds roll in, thunder strikes, lightning flashes and refreshing rain waters the thirsty earth. If only the rain did not come with hail, which sometimes happens in the hottest summer: hail is destructive for ripening grain and leaves other fields in a luster. The peasants fervently pray to God that there will be no hail.
Everything that spring began, summer ends. The leaves grow to their full size, and the recently transparent grove becomes an impenetrable home for thousands of birds. In the water meadows, the thick, tall grass sways like the sea. It moves and buzzes the whole world insects The trees in the gardens have faded. Bright red cherry and dark crimson plum are already flickering among the greenery; The apples and pears are still green and hidden between the leaves, but in the silence they ripen and become full. One linden tree is still in bloom and fragrant. In its thick foliage, between its slightly white but fragrant flowers, a harmonious, invisible choir is heard. This is done with the songs of thousands of cheerful bees on the honeyed, fragrant linden flowers. Come closer to the singing tree: it even smells like honey!
The early flowers have already faded and are preparing seeds, others are still in full bloom. The rye has risen, spiked and is already beginning to turn yellow, agitated like the sea under the pressure of a light wind. Buckwheat is in bloom, and the fields sown with it seem to be covered with a white veil with a pinkish tint; they carry the same pleasant honey smell that lures bees to the blooming linden tree.
And how many berries and mushrooms! Like red coral, juicy strawberries glow in the grass; transparent currant catkins hung on the bushes... But is it possible to list everything that appears in the summer? One thing matures after another, one catches up with the other.
And birds, beasts, and insects have plenty of freedom in the summer! Now the young birds are squeaking in their nests. But while their wings are still growing, caring parents scurry in the air with a cheerful cry, looking for food for their chicks. The little ones have long been sticking their thin, still poorly feathered necks out of the nest and, with their noses open, waiting for handouts. And there is enough food for the birds: one picks up the grain dropped by the ear, the other itself ruffles a ripening branch of hemp or plucks a juicy cherry; the third is chasing midges, and they are milling around in heaps in the air. A keen-sighted hawk, spreading its long wings wide, flies high in the air, vigilantly looking out for a chicken or some other young, inexperienced bird that has strayed from its mother - it gets jealous and, like an arrow, it launches at the poor thing; she cannot escape the greedy claws of a predatory, carnivorous bird. Old geese, proudly stretching out their long necks, cackle loudly and lead their little babies to the water, fluffy like spring lambs on willows and yellow like egg yolks.
The hairy, colorful caterpillar sways on its many legs and gnaws on leaves and fruits. There are already a lot of colorful butterflies fluttering around. The golden bee works tirelessly on linden, on buckwheat, on fragrant, sweet clover, on many different flowers, getting everywhere what she needs to make her cunning, fragrant honeycombs. There is an incessant hum in the apiaries (bee colonies). Soon the bees will become crowded in the hives, and they will begin to swarm: to divide into new hardworking kingdoms, of which one will remain at home, and the other will fly to look for new housing somewhere in a hollow tree. But the beekeeper will intercept the swarm on the road and plant it in a brand new hive that had long been prepared for it. Ant has already set up many new underground galleries; The thrifty mistress of the squirrel is already beginning to carry ripening nuts into her hollow. Freedom for everyone, freedom for everyone!
Lots and lots of summer work for the peasant! So he plowed the winter fields and prepared a soft cradle for the grain of grain for autumn. Before he had even finished plowing, it was time to mow. Mowers, in white shirts, with shiny and ringing scythes in their hands, go out into the meadows and together mow down the tall, already fertilized grass to the roots. Sharp braids shine in the sun and ring under the blows of a shovel full of sand. The women also work together with rakes and dump the already dried hay into stacks. The pleasant ringing of braids and friendly, sonorous songs rush everywhere from the meadows. Tall round haystacks are already being built.
The boys roll in the hay and, pushing each other, burst into ringing laughter; and a shaggy little horse, all covered with hay, can barely drag a heavy hay on a rope.
Before the hayfield had time to leave, the harvest began. Rye, the nurse of the Russian man, is ripe. The ear, heavy with many grains and yellowed, bent strongly towards the ground; If you still leave it on the field, the grain will begin to crumble, and God’s gift will be wasted without benefit. They throw scythes and take up sickles. It’s fun to watch how, scattered across the field and bending down to the very ground, orderly rows of reapers cut down tall rye at the roots and place it in beautiful, heavy sheaves. Two weeks of such work will pass, and in the field, where tall rye had recently been agitated, cut straw will stick out everywhere. But on the compressed strip there will be tall, golden piles of bread in rows.
Before they had time to harvest the rye, it was time to start working on the golden wheat, barley, and oats; and there, you look, the buckwheat is already blushing and asking for a braid. It's time to tug the flax: it's completely falling off. Now the hemp is ready; flocks of sparrows fuss over it, taking out the oily grain. It's time to dig and the potatoes and apples have long been lying in the tall grass. Everything is ripe, everything is ripening, everything must be removed on time; Even a long summer day is not enough!
Late in the evening people return from work. They are tired; but their cheerful, sonorous songs resound loudly in the evening dawn. In the morning, together with the sun, the peasants will again get to work; and the sun rises much earlier in the summer!
Why is the peasant so cheerful in the summer, when he has so much work? And the work is not easy. It takes a lot of habit to swing a heavy scythe all day long, cutting off a good armful of grass each time, and with habit you still need a lot of diligence and patience. It’s not easy to press under the scorching rays of the sun, bending down to the very ground, sweating, suffocating from the heat and fatigue. Look at the poor peasant woman, how she wipes large drops of sweat from her flushed face with her dirty but honest hand. She doesn’t even have time to feed her child, although he is right there in the field floundering in his cradle, hanging on three stakes stuck in the ground. The screamer's little sister is still a child herself and has recently begun to walk, but she is not idle either: in a dirty, torn shirt, she squats by the cradle and tries to rock her rambunctious little brother.
But why is the peasant happy in the summer, when he has so much work and his work is so difficult? Oh, there are many reasons for this! Firstly, the peasant is not afraid of work: he grew up in labor. Secondly, he knows that his summer job feeds him whole year and that one must use a bucket when God gives it; Otherwise, you may be left without bread. Thirdly, the peasant feels that his labors feed not just his family, but the whole world: me, and you, and all the dressed-up gentlemen, although some of them look at the peasant with contempt. He, digging in the ground, feeds everyone with his quiet, not brilliant work, like the roots of a tree feed the proud peaks, dressed with green leaves.
A lot of diligence and patience are needed for peasant work, but a lot of knowledge and experience are also required. Try to press, and you will see that it takes a lot of skill. If someone without the habit takes a scythe, he will not get much use with it. Sweeping a good haystack is also not an easy task; you have to plow skillfully, but in order to sow well - evenly, not thicker and not less often than it should be - not even every peasant will undertake this.
In addition, you need to know when and what to do, how to make a plow and a harrow, how to make hemp, for example, from hemp, from hemp threads, and from threads to weave canvas... Oh, the peasant knows a lot, a lot and can do it, and he cannot be called an ignoramus, even if he didn’t know how to read! Learning to read and learning many sciences is much easier than learning everything that a good and experienced peasant should know.
The peasant falls asleep sweetly after hard work, feeling that he has fulfilled his sacred duty. And it is not difficult for him to die: the field he cultivated and the field he still sown remains to his children, whom he gave water to, fed, accustomed to work, and put them in front of people as workers in his place.
Stories about summer for junior schoolchildren and older preschoolers. Stories about summer, about the beauty of trees in summer period, about the beauty of summer flowers. Stories about the beauty of wild and meadow flowers.
Forest voice.
I am wandering not far from my house in a birch forest. Everything around seems to be bathing, splashing in golden waves of warmth and light. Birch branches flow above me. The leaves on them seem either emerald green or completely golden. And below, under the birches, light bluish shadows also run and flow across the grass, like waves. And the light bunnies, like reflections of the sun in the water, run one after another along the grass, along the path.
The sun is both in the sky and on the ground... And this makes it feel so good, so fun that you want to run away somewhere into the distance, to where the trunks of young birch trees sparkle with their dazzling whiteness.
And suddenly from this sunny distance I heard a familiar forest voice: “Kuk-ku, kuk-ku!”
Cuckoo! I've heard it many times before, but I've never even seen it in a picture. What is she like? For some reason, she seemed plump and big-headed, like an owl. But maybe she's not like that at all? I'll run and have a look.
Alas, it turned out to be far from easy. I listen to her voice. And she will fall silent, and here again: “Kuk-ku, kuk-ku!”, but in a completely different place.
How can you see her? I stopped in thought. Or maybe she's playing hide and seek with me? She's hiding, and I'm looking. Let's play it the other way around: now I'll hide, and you look.
I climbed into the hazel bush and also cuckooed once and twice. The cuckoo fell silent. Maybe he's looking for me? I sit in silence, even my heart is pounding with excitement. And suddenly, somewhere nearby: “Kuk-ku, kuk-ku!”
I am silent: better look, don’t shout to the whole forest.
And she’s already very close: “Kuk-ku, kuk-ku!”
I look: some kind of bird is flying across the clearing, its tail is long, it is gray, only its chest is covered in dark speckles. Probably a hawk. This one in our yard hunts sparrows. He flew up to a nearby tree, sat down on a branch, bent down and shouted: “Kuku, kukuk!”
Cuckoo! That's it! This means that she does not look like an owl, but like a hawk.
I'll crow out of the bush in response to her! Out of fright, she almost fell out of the tree, immediately darted down from the branch, scurried off somewhere into the thicket of the forest, and that was all I saw.
But I don’t need to see her anymore. So I figured it out forest riddle, and besides, for the first time he himself spoke to the bird in its native language.
So the clear forest voice of the cuckoo revealed to me the first secret of the forest. And since then, for half a century, I have been wandering in winter and summer along remote, untrodden paths and discovering more and more secrets. And there is no end to these winding paths, and there is no end to the secrets of our native nature.
Carnation. Author: A. S. Onegov
Summer has come, lit up, lit up with lights of various colors. But the real summer holiday has not yet arrived: we have not yet met the main festive flower of summer - the carnation...
Probably everyone knows the red carnation, with which many holidays are celebrated. But this is a garden flower. It is grown in flowerbeds or in special greenhouses - greenhouses. The carnations that grow in the field, in the meadow, are smaller and more modest. But even without their beautiful red and dark pink flowers-lights there is no real summer holiday. And only when carnations bloom in a field or meadow do they think that summer has come completely.
The carnation glows with red cheerful lights, and a variety of butterflies fly to the flowers one after another to this light. But you usually won’t see other insects near these flowers. The fact is that sweet juice, nectar, is hidden in carnation flowers at the bottom of a long tube, like in a deep well. And only butterflies with their long proboscis can get this juice out of there.
Although our field and meadow carnations are more modest than lush garden flowers, the aroma from them is so strong that you will stop involuntarily and will enjoy this smell of blooming summer for a long time.
It is considered the most favorite of almost all people. It is expected every year. It attracts children and adults on warm and hot days. Thanks to which flowers bloom, grass grows, fruits, berries and vegetables ripen. Everyone enjoys the noisy, thunderous summer rain, after which everything around becomes clean and fresh. And after it you can see a very phenomenon - a rainbow. After the rain, everything comes to life, birds begin to sing, plants grow, their buds open. It's very nice to wake up early and run through the dew. If you look closely, you will notice that all the grass is strewn with small droplets of water. They resemble diamonds shimmering in the sun's rays.
Children especially look forward to summer days. After all, at this time the longest ones begin. It will be possible to forget about lessons for three months. Go with your parents to the dacha, the sea. Better yet, go to your grandmother. It attracts with clean air, freedom and open spaces. You can go fishing. Take a boat ride on the lake. Swim and sunbathe. Or go and wander around it, taking a break from the bustle of the city. It’s even better to go out for mushrooms after the rain. Only in the village, there may be an opportunity to try a steam bath cow's milk. Chat with pets, feed chickens and little ducklings.
In summer you can walk through the meadow, inhaling the aromas of meadow herbs and flowers. Lie on them, peering at the floating clouds and flying birds. Listen to the singing of the lark and swallows. It is especially pleasant to watch the swifts, which, screaming together like airplanes, are chasing insects. Admire the beauty of fluttering butterflies, a flying bumblebee, and a bronco. Watch how a bee lands on a flower and collects nectar.
Everyone is busy with their own affairs, especially the ants, who are constantly expanding their mounded homes. And in the evening it is very pleasant to listen to the singing of crickets, reminiscent of a beautiful enchanting song. When it gets dark, it’s interesting to look at the starry sky, finding the Milky Way, and wait for a star to fall to make your deepest wish. In addition to relaxing in the summer, you have to work a lot in order to live calmly in the winter. But this work is pleasant in its own way, because it is carried out in the fresh air, and not in a stuffy room. People work in the fields, in gardens, caring for plants.
And in the summer you can gather with friends around the fire, bake potatoes, and sing your favorite songs with a guitar. Summer is the most wonderful time when you want to create something, dream about the future, enjoy warm sun, bask in the silky grass, admire the beauty of flowers, the harvest of vegetables and fruits. Even though every summer is the same, you always look forward to it!