“The sun ... spring ... greenery around ... Good. Ah well!What is the forest whispering about? I don't know.What are moths and grasshoppers whispering about? I don't know either.But only good! So good, it’s like I’m three years old again, and the old nanny is weaving a wreath of field chamomile for me.I want to make friends with the sun, and with the river, and with the grumpy forest, which makes noise and noise about something . And why is it making noise and what is it making noise about - no one will understand and cannot understand.Chu! What is this? Either the bird shied away from the bushes and touched me with its wing, or the moth fluttered onto my shoulder, looks ... laughs ... "