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And sometimes the rain will charge for the whole day.
Foliage, tired for long dusty days, greedily catches life-giving drops.
They are comfortably settled in light bends, gathering in small lakes, which for a moment slip down in one big drop.
Bark of trees is impregnated, darkens, saturated with moisture.
The trunks of the trees become solemnly majestic, especially young birch trees.
A small breeze ruffles the gentle crowns of the leaves, brushing and playing with light sprays.
Summer rain is a special sacrament. Often it ends in the evening at the sunset.
And, in the evening warm rays, you breathe this freshness, the air filled with moisture.
And whether the dew under your feet, or the rain lost.
And the earth begins to give off heat, at first light, but with every minute becoming heavy fog. It creeps confidently and calmly under his feet, wrapping the grass in its duvet.
It’s getting dark.
Still light, but the sun gives its last rays, leaving the horizon.
Without it, the space trembles with a slightly gray haze, the fog begins to cool the legs.
Calm summer night is ahead.