My colleague Vyacheslav Petrovich told me this story. He has a small house near Mozhaisk, where he spends all his weekends.
Extraordinary beauty: fresh air, dense forest all around, silence. And in the forest there are many mushrooms and berries. This amazing case is connected with mushrooms.
On the next weekend, Vyacheslav Petrovich went to his dacha. On Saturday morning I got up early to go mushroom picking. But the weather turned bad - a cold wind blew, drizzling rain. Petrovich decided that he wouldn’t spend the weekend watching TV anyway, and dressed warmly, he went into the forest.
The rain was getting worse, there were no mushrooms.
“I won't collect anything today, I have to go home,” thought the man. But suddenly the trees parted, the bright sun shone. An amazing picture opened up in front of Vyacheslav: a clean green edge with dense grass and forest flowers. There was no rain here.
The only thing that surprised me was that there was complete silence in the clearing. No birds were heard, no butterflies flew by, no grasshoppers chirped. But even strong mushrooms grew in abundance.
The man quickly filled a whole basket. Satisfied and happy, he went home, only he could not understand why he had never come across this clearing before - after all, he knew the local forest, as they say, far and wide.
As soon as he left the clearing, it began to rain again. At home Vyacheslav Petrovich was greeted by worried relatives:
Promotional video:
- Where have you been?! The rain is pouring like a wall, and you are walking somewhere, you are all wet, probably!
- Yes, I went out into a clearing in the forest, just the rain stopped, look how many mushrooms I collected!
- The rain did not stop for a minute! And the sun did not come out. - answered him.
Vyacheslav Petrovich thought: what kind of magic meadow is this? Why was it raining around her as if from a bucket, and she was dry, the bright sun was shining above her?
The mushrooms looked very good and Petrovich decided to peel them tomorrow. But the next day they all deteriorated, I had to throw them away. Maybe these mushrooms were some kind of fake, from another dimension, like the meadow?
After a while, Vyacheslav Petrovich decided at all costs to find that clearing in the forest, but he never found it, although he knew the area perfectly.
- It's good that I even left the forest then! - says my colleague.
Tatiana YASTREBOVA, Moscow