It took almost half a century, but the memory stores the impressions about the trips for the summer holidays in his native village near Moscow. After the station bustle, bustle in the train and dusty district bus got out at my stop and stood stunned pure pine air, birds singing and the smell of strawberries. After all life in the capital seemed unusual.
Photo: Mikhail Semin
According to cool a winding forest path out on the sun-warmed wide field. From year to year there were planted winter rye. Above his head hung a huge blue sky, on the sides went from one end of the green wave. By August, rye became a gray-yellow, and the lower tier stretched a carpet of blue cornflowers. Happy over the field larks, in the evening they were joined quail: «… sleep, bedtime».
Years passed. The asphalt is rolled up dirt roads, but came the nineties, when it does not sow, and not built. Earth-nurse was distributed under the dacha. Part of the former field is less than one square kilometer quickly grow low forests. Constantly there vygulivaya their favorite legashey, unhurried began to notice changes in the bird world. First, the field was chosen span quail. In late August and early September at the far edge of steel to meet regularly to two dozen birds.
Where the grass is raised especially high, the pair settled corncrake. In the new century, this square mastered the black grouse, and by August the brood of six or seven birds made hard to beat not only the dog heart. Last year, the «Municipal flatlet» replenished with new tenants. One day in May, went outside the village on the edge of the road and saw something unusual.
It was thought at first that someone had thrown a toy, then saw the chicken, although their village was not held. I pulled by eight meters and saw a miracle. Profile stood motionless in a true golden pheasant !!! Light yellow beak colorful head with squinting eyes in my direction, all in gold plumage with a long black tail.
The pheasant was clearly peri-domestic. When he returned, took his «Englishman» on a long leash and took the edge of the road to get acquainted. Rooster as the water sank, but a little further dog stood like a statue. After sending the dog out of the grass with a crash flew two partridges. We had to divert the setter, and in July in the center of the field was already on the wing of a brood of a dozen noble birds. Continue search in the woods, and two of last year’s podshumeli Chernyshov. Pheasant was not there. In the woods we came across a few late morels, gathered at the edge of a young sorrel and moved back home on a leash.
Fortunately, the day was ours. The dog ran into fresh nabrody like Mukhtar and dragged me along a straight line to almost three hundred meters of the road. There was a bar, and five meters in front of a birch tree, I saw again a living advertisement of Czech beer. The dog stood motionless and greedily breathed for her new fragrance. Pheasant broke down and moved to the side by one step. Nervous dog, wagged his tail. As a children’s horse, I rearranged his assistant, and then followed by a dead-hour. Pheasant grouse took off slowly, dragging a long tail, and landed in a neighbor’s potato.
Since that time, I began to arrange a celebration of the soul dog no more than once a month to once again not to disturb the birds. Two broods and several singles on a small piece of an abandoned right outside the fence will consider any Beloomut trampled down. Although the field is constantly combing the fans of strawberry, but the bird kept stubbornly in place. Sometime in June, I once met a pheasant in the field. Bird was making loud cries, fluttered in the meter, and again fell into the grass. Maybe the rooster looked for a couple or cause to fight rivals …
Photo: Mikhail Semin
By the opening of the pheasant hunting disappeared without leaving even a feather on the memory. Partridge flew to neighboring clover field and connected with another brood, well, and began to grouse stay alone. Unfortunately, the happiness was short-lived. In last spring for the first time because of the wind and lack of moisture «lit.» perennial herb. Flashes as candles, young pine and birch trees. The fire was so intense that in several places burned wooden poles of power lines.
In May, the city looked like an abandoned field lawn. From black ash rising emerald shoots of young grass. Time passed, and nature is almost healed wounds received. Not far off the new season of hunting, but the Eldorado stores dead silence, and meets only ticks …
In conclusion, I would like to ask the would-be gardeners okashivat their fences, and not to make a fatal burns.
P.S. On the eve of the opening of hunting we still managed to find grouse brood on the edge of a dense mixed forest. Birds heap and sat tight. After a noisy takeoff began to take wing Starkey young teterevyata size of a partridge. Highlight on cockerels plumage was impossible. Apparently, it was a late brood a second clutch. Before the presentation, they were still to grow and grow …
P.P.S. A miracle happened. For the first time in the area legashatnikam have met. In the evening, when the sun hid behind the woods and pulled off the coolness when the brood is likely went to the field to be fed overripe strawberries, flowers and petals later tasty insects, next to Eldorado green jeep stopped. Out of the car stepped uncle with a gun and a dog combed coveted area.
Within minutes, six shots sounded. My uncle was a master of his craft, as only the first was a doublet, and with pieces he gets single. I really wanted to see this amateur chick tobacco minute in black and white where it was written that from upland game grouse shoot only, and not even in July. Humpback on his head at us even the grave is not correct. But an hour before my dog from the stand raised exactly the same litter on the far field, and after a few minutes of idle three teterok. Nothing but the joy of working dogs and the possibility to communicate with nature, I have not experienced. Even the thought of grabbing a gun arose.
AN YASCHUK17 June 2013 at 00:00