ALTAYA ALTAYA

Once upon a time, in a land where summer forests were filled with magic, there lived a little girl named Lily. One warm evening, as the sun began to set and the sky turned a brilliant shade of orange, Lily decided to take a walk through the nearby forest.

The path before her was lined with ancient trees, their leaves rustling gently in the breeze. Fireflies danced around her, their tiny lights twinkling like stars fallen to earth. As she walked, a faint and beautiful melody reached her ears, floating through the air like a whisper.

Curious and enchanted, Lily followed the music deeper into the forest. With each step, the melody grew clearer and louder, wrapping around her like a warm hug. The fireflies seemed to guide her, forming a sparkling trail along the path.

Lily's heart raced with excitement as she ventured further. The forest around her grew denser, the trees taller and more majestic. The music swelled, filling the air with a joyous tune that made her feet dance on their own. She twirled and spun, the fireflies swirling around her in a mesmerizing display.

Finally, the path opened up into a magnificent glade. The sight before her took her breath away. The glade was bathed in a soft, golden light, and at its center was a grand party unlike any Lily had ever seen. Mythical creatures of all kinds were gathered, celebrating together in harmony.

There were graceful fairies with shimmering wings, gentle centaurs with eyes full of wisdom, mischievous elves with laughter in their voices, and elegant unicorns with coats as white as snow. In the middle of it all, a band of woodland creatures played the beautiful music that had drawn Lily here.

The creatures welcomed her with open arms, their eyes sparkling with kindness. They danced and sang, their joy infectious. Lily joined in the festivities, her heart soaring with happiness. She danced with the fairies, laughed with the elves, and even rode on the back of a majestic unicorn.

The night wore on, but the magic of the glade never faded. The mythical creatures treated Lily like one of their own, and she felt a deep sense of belonging. As the first light of dawn began to peek through the trees, the music slowly quieted, and the creatures bid her a fond farewell.

Lily made her way back home, her heart full of the wonders she had witnessed. She knew that the memory of that magical night would stay with her forever, a beautiful secret shared with the enchanting beings of the summer forest.

And so, whenever she heard the distant strains of music carried on the breeze, she would smile, knowing that somewhere deep in the forest, the mythical creatures were still celebrating, waiting for the day she would return.

Once upon a January night in a secluded village shrouded in mist, there lived a young man named Ansell. As the village prepared for its grand annual celebration, Ansell received peculiar invitations that seemed to materialize from the ethereal depths of the forest. Eager to unravel the mysteries that whispered through the frosty air, he set out on his bicycle, the moon above glowing with an enigmatic golden hue.

The village, cloaked in a silvery fog, felt like a gateway to another realm as Ansell pedaled through the mist-laden streets. The outlines of houses were blurred by an otherworldly veil. Beyond the village's edge, the forest awaited, its secrets veiled in the icy embrace of January.

The moon, a cryptic guide in the winter night sky, cast an elusive light upon the snow-laden path. As Ansell delved into the heart of the forest, the air grew colder, and the trees, standing like ancient guardians, whispered secrets only the winter winds could comprehend. His bicycle wheels left imprints on the snow, each turn revealing silver glints, as if the forest floor hid a mosaic of forgotten tales beneath its January blanket.

The journey through the woods seemed endless, the silence broken only by the mysterious echoes of his surroundings. The towering pines, draped in veils of frost, held secrets passed down through the ages. The path unfolded like a riddle, winding through ancient groves and hidden clearings beneath the January moon's watchful eye.

Emerging from the mystical depths, Ansell found himself on the outskirts of a celebration bathed in an eerie glow. The village square, transformed into an enigmatic winter tableau, welcomed him with an atmosphere that hinted at enchantments yet to be revealed.

Ansell parked his bicycle, the silver glares from the snow clinging to its wheels like traces of a spectral journey through the January night. The distant strains of haunting melodies and muffled laughter echoed through the air, guiding him toward the heart of the clandestine January gathering.

Underneath the watchful gaze of the golden moon, Ansell and his friends danced in a mysterious rhythm, their laughter weaving into the shadows cast by the ancient trees. As the January night unfolded, the winter forest retained its secrets, sharing only glimpses of its enigmatic tales with those who dared to venture into its depths.

And so, in the heart of that cryptic January night, a young man named Ansell's journey through the bewitching winter forest led him to a celebration where mysteries and magic converged, leaving a trace of secrets lingering beneath the January moon's enigmatic glow.

In the hushed stillness of winter's night, a rare celestial spectacle graces the heavens. Silver stars, seldom seen in their descent, delicately twirl earthward, each a radiant messenger from the cosmic realms.

As they pirouette in the velvety darkness, these elusive silver stars leave behind trails of ethereal stardust. Their infrequent dance paints the midnight canvas with a magical luminescence, transforming the world into a scene plucked from the most enchanting of dreams.

In the midst of this celestial rarity, a curious child steps into the open, wrapped in the warmth of wonder. The silver stars, recognizing the exceptional moment, twinkle and swirl, creating a spellbinding display of magic that mirrors the child's awe.

With outstretched hands, the child catches one of these rarely seen silver stars—a tangible fragment of cosmic elegance now cradled in their palms. In that singular instance, time seems to stand still, encapsulated in the extraordinary allure of a winter fairytale.

Eyes aglow, the child releases the star back into the night sky. It rejoins its celestial companions, weaving rare spells of magic that cascade in shimmering waves over the slumbering world below.

And so, beneath the rarely witnessed silver-strewn heavens, the winter night spins its mystical yarn, where falling stars are not just celestial remnants but the rarest emissaries of pure, unbridled magic.

I can't recall the exact date of this breathtaking sunrise, but the memory of it remains vivid. Amidst the whirlwind of experiences during that Burn, this particular sunrise stands out as exceptionally warm and soul-stirring. I'm deeply grateful to the "Dacha" community for their hospitality, kindness, and love.

Let there be fire...

It is nothing but a long summer trip thru Asia...