spring [Theme]

I am in your spring, Azerbaijan!

Sunny, I want you to bloom...

The winter was terribly hard. I feel like the spring sun is healing some deep, long-healed wound in my soul. Sometimes it’s enthusiastic, like in early youth. I feel that my soul will become fresh again.

The sun is shining so nicely over the dirty earth, there is such a smell of spring in the air that I am too lazy and have no strength to sit in the room, but for me - woe is me! - up to my neck in work: exams, daily bread... I love spring, and yet I use it least of all. Involuntarily, you will not be a poet: the gods did not give you talent, and social conditions take away spring.

Spring comes to Wisteria Lane every year. It's time when the air filled with aromas is intoxicating, the eyes are caressed by the fluttering of butterflies, the ears are caressed by the buzzing of the first awakened bees. Then, in the spring, the sympathies of men turn into obsession.

We leave for the village in the last days of March in order to have time to slip along the winter road and catch the whole spring, starting with the drops, through the complete melting of the snow until the apple trees bloom. In the first days of April everything collapses, floats, smokes with steam. The larks are singing, the coltsfoot is blooming, the rooks are busily dragging heavy branches onto the old linden trees, breaking them off on the old dilapidated willows.

It’s as if the leaves of the birch trees are blooming again.

Don't stand naked on May days!

A piece of the sun broke off and scattered around the world like golden petals. The day has become noticeably longer, and the birds are more talkative. A girl was walking along the sidewalk. A mischievous blush played on her cheeks, and spring was reflected in her eyes. A row of perennial fluffy spruce trees lined the road. Having straightened the lush branches, they also enjoyed the warmth and light. Marvelous,

Create.

Spring came...

“Good afternoon, my youth. My God, how beautiful you are.” At seventeen, each of us imagines ourselves as a hot big star. It seems to us that all objects in the solar system should revolve exclusively around us. Youth is given to us not only for knowledge, but also for doing stupid things. And when else to do them, if not at seventeen, in a city that has been captured by spring?..

Spring is upon us!