About spring
Every spring I had a tradition to go to our summer cottedge)) called dacha. on bicycle. 25km in one direction. where my The Best Father in the World and I burned pioneer fire from things, that had have gone bad in winter. We walked barefoot on green young grass.. and lied in the sun.. and looking the sky.. and stars.. and wild animals.. and I miss for this.
This spring I have no dacha and no bicycle. It has some pluses: my hands and legs not like the milkmaid`s)
But.. .. ..
I walked today to watch the park of Peole Friedship (druzhby narodiv), that on the island between Obolon and Troeshina. I thanked and pride my Father that he had attached the brake to my roller skates when I took away them from Donetsk. Without brake I could be not alive. The wheels on skates - in trash (в хлам. не надо так. не буду боольше кататься где попало). I saw this:

It is not oak. But leaves.. I dont know what is the tree it.. It bloom like maple. but I can be wrong. I dont care. I saw pink asphalt, that leads to yakhtklub Kalina (I can be wrong with names I dont care). I have lost. Then I came back and found the park. I walked barefoot, because there was no asphalt roads in the park, only soil and sand. I feeled real yog, I walked on real glass.

 I saw Obolon from island. I was exposed to rain and did not reach the bridge, that was on the map.