And the mountains look at me ... Continuation
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And the mountains look at me ... Continuation
I am writing urgently on the continuation of my article about the trip to Pashtrovichka mountain, because I do not want to erase my impressions - from what I saw, and from readers - from reading ...
You have to go, you want to go, although with every regular hundred-meter rise in your head, the folk wisdom pops up periodically - Clever uphill will not go ... But the mountains probably do not think so. I heard many times from others: Mountains call. Now I also know it. The mountains know how to speak! It's not audible, but it's understandable. Whether the noise of foliage, or the whistling of the wind, but somehow Pashtrovichka whispered to me that it was not necessary to give up, that I had dreamed of visiting the monastery of Spiridon, so you must stomp slowly ... In holy places on foot - this is correct. Even pathos Through the thorns, the mountains are also known to the stars. Smart mountains, wise .... Therefore, probably, monasteries are built in the mountains. People who live in them and the mountains have unanimity, unanimity.
We continue the journey more slowly and slowly. Here already a herd of goats with an English-speaking shepherd overtook us. Goats are beautiful, affectionate, trusting and they will get into the frame, and the goats, as usual, proud, self-confident pretend that they are not interested in our gadgets. With impatience we peer into every turn of the road, hoping for him to see the purpose of our journey. Another surprise is a piece of roadway. Suddenly, after the risk of crashing or tucking a leg on every meter, we find ourselves on smooth stones laid by someone's strong hand a few centuries ago. The mountains probably remember these people. After all, the mountains have a memory! And that something not to forget, they do for themselves, only understandable to them alone, zarubochki on the rocks. Another explanation, how and why such marks appear on huge cobblestones, I did not come up with.
And finally, here it is banal - Dreams come true! Before us there was an ideal picture, something reminding me of an illustration to the books that we are trying very hard to deliver on the streets or suddenly ring at the door to make us holders of the recipes for the right life. Glade, surrounded by trees with colorful foliage, through which breaks already autumn, but still a gentle sun ... In the center of the clearing - a neat little house, like a toy. A herd of animals will peacefully surrender, which are unquestionably more rapid in the mountains than us. All grass is shrouded in cobwebs with dew drops, with which the sun plays. And it looks as if someone very generous scattered a lot of small diamonds at our feet as a reward for the hard way.
Towards us came an elderly, but still handsome and still handsome monk. He, too, was like a picture or even an icon. Young, thin as a spring escape, the monk brought us coffee. We sat at a small temple, somewhere high in the mountains, drank ordinary coffee and understood that with each of us something was happening, inexplicable, but very pleasant and exciting. Maybe this is God's grace?
The temple of St. Spiridon was very cozy. He will soon be 110 years old. Near a small building, in which the cells of nuns, they are here. 3. On the roof there is a sun battery, near the wall-bundles of firewood. Do not freeze the little sister! And on the monastery glade is a monument to the soldiers who defended this height in 1942. Mountains were at war! They sheltered the fighters in their rocks, they gave them to drink from their mountain rivers.
We do not want to leave, but the mountains say goodbye to us, hiding the sun from us faster and faster. They clashed with Spiridon, embraced the monk, stroked all the abundance of cats that got underfoot ... and went to the sinful land.
The end follows.
Vera Belushchenko
#vashavera
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