ALTAYA ALTAYA

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...

Dedicated to the beginning of a new era.