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Close to here, where in the autumn the moss is strewed with red-cheeked cranberries, a crane couple is talking. The sun is just sensed not far from the birch grove, but the air is filled with something special - it is the midst of the summer.

As the sun rays start to touch the ends of the bent grass in the nearby meadows, the most colorful palette starts to show itself. The dew drops add the charm to the view, flashing in the culms of the grass and in the daisy blossoms making it impossible to follow them.

The hollows are still covered in the white milk of fog, embracing all the alive and may be not-so-alive beings.

The garden is still sleeping in a silent peace. Just through the fog clouds the wind breeze brings the scent of cinnamon from the mathiola bed. In the dotted and yellow, in flower blankets and in white pillows, dressed in the scented nightshirts, the flowers are still sleeping in the garden. Suddenly the morning song appears from the nearby stork nest. Startled from the rattling of the storks, a lily girl dressed in pinked opens her small eyes, but is again carried away in the sleep. Her flower girlfriends are still captured in sweet dreams, without realizing the beauty of the early morning. As the flowers are still sleeping, the grasshopper plays its violin, still tuned into the night waltz.

It is getting lighter and lighter. The nature and the garden are waking up. The first flower children are waking up in the day lily bed. Just a moment ago, they were wrapped in the warm leafs. What a combination of colors and shapes, indescribable variety of it. The family of daisies have dressed in white veils. A creamy peony shakes away the dew drops from her eyelashes. The roses show off their luxurious morning dresses. The lily ladies straighten up their bodies, looking for the most splendid hats for this July day. In every flower a happy smile can be seen as they have no time for sorrow. They want to look at their best as all garden is waiting for him - the gardener.

As the flowers blossom quietly, however, no one is left indifferent. They have their aura, the soul beaming out its special radiation. They have their task in the world, and it is not only to be plucked and put in the flower vase. The beauty of the flowers have waken up to the limitless blooming.

 
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