Nowhere is summer felt as clearly and clearly as in the village. Many, remembering their childhood in the countryside, begin the story something like this: “You wake up from a hot ray of sunlight sliding across your face, falling through the curtain. You drink a glass of milk with some rolls and rush barefoot into the garden for fresh radishes. All day outside: cycling, fishing, games.” Due to the proximity of nature and the inaccessibility of many of the benefits of civilization, such as recreation centers, village children invent entertainment for themselves from what is nearby. "Letidor" asked adults and children who spent their youth in the village about traditional village children's activities that may seem unusual to a city resident.
Conduct agricultural experiments
For villagers, a vegetable garden is often not a joy, but an everyday duty. You have to walk through the beds with a watering can in the morning or spend several hours weeding, looking for weeds. Some children turn routine into pleasure, investing cognitive or competitive goals in their usual activities: not just growing a carrot, but tracking its growth from seed to fruit, not only hilling potatoes, but having a competition with their brother “who can get to the fence first.” Some conduct real botanical experiments: they create their own beds and grow their own vegetables inside and out. By the way, such agronomic fun is gaining popularity among urban residents of Europe. Events where children are introduced to beds and vegetable gardens are named with the prefix “eco”. As part of ecotourism, children are taken on an excursion to the village, shown how carrots, onions, and potatoes grow in vegetable gardens, children are allowed to care for plants and fed vegetables from the garden.
Natalya, 14 years old:“Every year, since I was eight years old, I have made my own garden bed. Because when something of yours grows, it is very pleasant; you feel that your work leads to a specific visible result. I grow something new every year. A couple of years ago, my mother was given a beautiful cookbook with pictures and recipes for unusual dishes. I developed a passion for cooking these dishes and making my parents happy. One day I came across a recipe that called for beans in pods. I had no idea what it was. We only had regular red or white beans, in bags. I decided to grow beans in pods. I worked diligently on it all summer. When the pods became, in my opinion, suitable, I finally prepared the dish for which everything was started. It turned out terrible, the pods were very tough! Who would have warned that you need special beans, string beans, and not ordinary ones. But I’m not discouraged, I’m not neglecting my own garden, this year I’m doing a simpler experiment - I’m planting lettuce different varieties, and greens - basil and mint."
Having your own dog or cat is simple and clear; you are unlikely to surprise anyone with such pets. Cows, pigs, chickens in the parent's outyard, too, of course. But not every child can create his own livestock, even if it’s not large-horned, but small and peaceful.
Maria Ivanovna, 56 years old:“I have two neighbors, Sashka and Leshka, blond twins, five years old. These little ones have been running their own “farm” of rabbits since childhood. There are about ten adult animals and about the same number of small ones. These two young boys are very hard-working, they don’t even know how to read or write, but they work no worse than some adults. Rabbits require regular care; every morning, afternoon and evening, Sashka and Leshka go to the garden or with their father to the nearest meadow, tear up the grass, feed and water the rabbits. The boys are very proud of their work; if anyone asks about the farm, they talk about the pets with pride. Yesterday I asked: “How many rabbits have you already produced?” They answer: “We don’t know how to count yet. A lot of".
In absolutely any village you will definitely see schoolchildren on motorcycles, cars, tractors, and scooters. The boys here get behind the wheel as soon as their feet reach the pedals. They ride without helmets or seat belts, but this seems to seem natural and normal to local parents.
Sergey, 14 years old:“The most important thing is to have transport, at least some kind; an old scooter with a trailer, a forty-year-old Ural, a new motorcycle, and even my father’s tractor will do. Whether you're cool or not, they don't judge you by transport here. It matters what kind of company you are in and who you are friends with. It doesn’t matter what you drive. My grandfather gave Lekha, my friend, a Ural, he tuned it and painted it with paints, I have an old Izh, my father and I repaired it, and it’s still driving. I also put light bulbs on it so that it glows in the dark.
I’ve been driving a motorcycle since I was three years old, my father put me behind the wheel for the first time when I was three years old, on the gas tank in front of me, I steered, he insured. I went myself, probably in first grade, I don’t remember exactly. We race for speed, mom scolds us for it, of course, we go to the forest to pick mushrooms, we take the girls for rides. Of course, we all know that driving is only allowed after 16 years of age, but who will control us here? Traffic cops stop by on major holidays, and those who know friends won’t catch their own and fine them.”
The proximity of nature encourages gathering and hunting. You can go for mushrooms and berries, collect birch sap or ferns. Even the most ordinary fishing is an adventure for boys. Getting up at five in the morning and going to the pond or river at dawn - why not rustic romance? But fish is still banal; it’s much more fun to hunt gophers or catch crayfish.
Evgeniy, 35 years old:“Our village is located in the steppe, right behind the houses there are gopher holes everywhere, right in the ground, along country roads, in the fields. And we, as children, went to “pour out” the gophers. So, of course, we wouldn’t need them at all, but the process itself was fascinating. Were going to big company, they filled buckets of water at home and dragged them to the holes. Gophers have end-to-end homes: each burrow has two entrances from the surface, and they can be traced without difficulty. One person stands at one entrance, another, with water, at the second. On command, water is poured into the hole on one side, and the gopher, saving its skin, runs into the second free exit, where it is immediately caught. Sometimes the caught gophers were roasted over a fire and eaten, but more often they were released.”
Alexey, 15 years old:“We chase crayfish to our lake, our family loves them very much. For bait you need rotten fish, so we catch crucian carp in advance and leave them in the sun so that they deteriorate slightly. We take the gear, these are nets, closed on all sides, with small holes, the size of crayfish. We load this gear with fish, get on the boat and set off to choose places. You need to know the places, because the crayfish is such a beast, it can sit ten meters from your crayfish traps and it doesn’t care about all your tricks. After you have set up the gear, you just need to drive around and check the traps, remove the caught crayfish and put them in the tank. You can catch a couple of buckets at a time if you’re lucky.”
It would seem that it’s the same as sitting on a bench at the entrance in the evenings. There is a similar, but not quite, difference in the degree of freedom that the villagers have. Here mom won’t shout out the window “Lenka, go home!” and you can sit at least half the night and count the stars.
Alena, 30 years old:“As a child, I spent every summer in the village. My aunt lived there and raised 9 children alone. All of our relatives considered it their duty to come and help her with the garden, mowing, and preparing for the winter. For us children, it was a real paradise, a large group of children and practically no control from adults: everyone in the village knew each other, and nothing bad could happen to us. They came home in the morning, satisfied and happy, and before going to bed they drank a glass of milk, with bread and jam.
It’s an unspoken tradition in the village that children usually gather “behind the fence” with someone from the company, so the ruin of our house became the “cultural and leisure center” of the village for the summer; it was always full of children. They played ball, ate currants, and talked. They loved to sit late into the night and count the stars. Someone brought a map of the starry sky, and we spent nights looking for constellations: here is the Big Dipper, here is the Polar Star.
You rarely see stars in the city; I don’t even remember the last time I looked at the starry sky. I heard a funny story on this topic: in 1965, in New York, the power was turned off throughout the entire city, then many people saw the stars in the sky for the first time and mistaking them for a UFO and an alien invasion, they cut off the emergency phone line in panic. Or maybe it’s in the village - the sky is very close and the stars are at your fingertips.”
At first glance, what fun this is! But, no matter how strange it may sound, it turns out that going for cows is the highlight of the day for some village children. Local discos are entertainment for older people, mass holidays are a rare event, but here you can show yourself and look at others.
Olga, 13 years old:“In the evenings we go to meet the cows. In the morning we take them to the herd, they graze all day, and in the evening we go outside the village and wait for the herd to start emerging from behind the hill. Then we look for our cows and take them home; if we don’t meet them, they will break off and go for a walk. A lot of people gather, almost the entire village, we sit and wait. Grandmas last news They discuss whether we ride bikes or play different games, ball and catch. What I also like is that only there you can meet some of the new guys who came, for example, to stay with their grandmother. Because it’s somehow not customary for us to communicate with children from other streets, especially in the summer, in our village they are friends with the streets, in my company everyone is from Oktyabrskaya, there are neighbors from Pushkin and Naberezhnaya.”
The space and large undeveloped territories encourage the search for secluded corners for the construction of children's hiding places and parking lots. Having your own orphanage leads to amazing transformations: a slob zealously preserves order in her hut, a fidget carefully paints the entrance, a hooligan establishes clear rules of conduct within the walls of his home.
Dima, 20 years old:“In the summer we ran away from home to the river. A willow grew on a hillock, and we built a hut under it. From boards, logs, huge burdock leaves. One day my father brought home old boxes for kindling the stove, he woke up in the morning, and there were no boards - in the evening we stole everything to build our hut. There were screams! But then he came, looked at our house and stopped swearing, it’s good, he says, they built it, you can’t complain. So they played in the hut all summer, practically lived, brought food from home and dined right there.
Dmitry, 27 years old:“In my childhood, as I remember now, they showed on TV the children’s program “Animal Jungle.” There, children, two teams, took part in relay races, climbed mazes, and walked some distances. We villagers were very jealous of the participants back then and we all dreamed of getting there. And we decided to train with friends, just in case. Behind our gardens we had construction dump, the house is unfinished, and nearby there are piles of bricks, tall grass, boards, old car wheels.
Every day we went to this landfill and built our own towns, where we had to jump on wheels, walk on narrow boards raised to a decent height, crawl on the grass, jump on bungees - ropes tied to a tree, the finish line was an old crumpled car, which I should have taken it first.
They stayed on our battlefield for days, built and competed, again completed new obstacles, came up with tasks. Then even adults began to come to us, watch, and root for the participants. What I liked most was when it got dark and we all didn’t want to leave. We lit a lantern at the neighboring house and continued the game, together with our parents.”
Summer in the village means fresh air, blue skies, the fragrant smell of the forest, a variety of delicious berries and mushrooms.
I'm looking forward to the hot summer days to experience the unforgettable atmosphere of being close to nature.
And once again, having collected my things, I go to the village. This place doesn't feel like a city. The asphalt, bursting with heat and stuffiness, is incomparable with the green carpet of grass and flowers and the purity and lightness of the air.
In the mornings, I got up with the roosters. He helped his grandmother fetch water, water the garden, and then he and his grandfather chopped wood.
Hot days were brightened up by trips to the river, where you could not only swim to your heart's content, but also go fishing. I have mastered the freestyle and breaststroke perfectly. Bicycle rides with mine best friend Kolya, who lived next door, and the game of badminton kept me busy.
With my grandparents and our dog, we went into the forest and picked a pot of blueberries and a whole basket of mushrooms, which we then fried and ate with potatoes and onions grown with our own hands.
One day I spent the night on the roof, covered with a blanket from the cold dew that had fallen, I counted the large and bright stars, looked for constellations in the dark blue cloudless night sky. More than once, after several weeks, I had vivid, starry dreams at night.
I really love rain. In the village, the sound of raindrops on the roofs is unusually melodic and ringing, and how wonderful is the rainbow after the clouds have parted, what an exciting aroma!
At the end of summer, flowers of unprecedented beauty bloomed in our flower beds. I dried many of the fallen buds and petals and added them to my herbarium as a keepsake. And in the garden I found a lucky four-leaf clover, which I hid in my favorite book.
Closer to autumn, to the beginning of Indian summer, we began to harvest a rich harvest - zucchini, pumpkins, carrots, radishes, cabbage, beets, tomatoes, plums and much more.
Many preparations - jams and pickles - were taken with them to the city, as a piece of summer, a reminder of the hot season and hard work.
Short mini essay
Every summer, by tradition, I spend visiting my grandmother in the village. After a year of living in the city, life in the village seems calm and measured. There are no traffic jams or noisy streets, shopping centers and large crowds. And it seems that the air is cleaner here and the sun is warmer. After having a cozy but small apartment, I like to help my grandmother in the yard. Every morning begins with a delicious breakfast. Then we go to feed everyone else: chickens, pigs and of course the cat and dog. It's hard to imagine a rural yard without these animals.
After lunch, when all the work is done, I go with the local guys either to swim in the lake or for a walk in the forest. The nature here is beautiful and the people are kind. I miss my parents a little, although living with my grandmother is no worse, maybe even a little better. There is no Internet here, and the TV only shows a few channels, and even those that are not interesting. So I started reading the book. At home, in the city, I never had enough time for her. This is how I spent the summer in the village visiting my grandmother.
Several interesting essays
- Essay based on the painting by Lemokh Grandmother and granddaughter
In front of me is a simply stunning painting by Kirill Vikentievich Lemokh, a talented Russian painter of the 19th century, called “Grandmother and Granddaughter.” It was written oil paints, in fairly dark colors.
The parents decided to spend the summer in the village with their grandmother. What nonsense I have so many plans for the summer with my friends. I was against living in the wilderness for three best months of the year, without friends and a computer. But it was impossible to convince the parents. Having collected our things, we went to the station. We rode there on a big train for twelve whole hours, and even with a transfer. Even then I realized that this would be the worst vacation of my life. We arrived in a small village, there were only ten houses and one store. We arrived in the evening, it was already getting dark, the village had a terrible smell of manure and a lot of dirt. I felt disgusted and sorry for myself, because I would have to live here for three whole months. The house was even worse: wooden floors, a roof that was leaking, just a nightmare. The bed was not comfortable, and I hardly slept, and in the morning I was woken up by an annoying rooster. I glanced at the clock hanging on the wall; it was only six in the morning. There was nothing left to do but go have breakfast. Breakfast was also not a success. Grandma fried pancakes and gave me milk, but I don’t like it. I had to go explore the village hungry. The women hurried to the barns and fed the cattle, the men were in the field, and the children were playing in the mud, they were having fun and not at all disgusted, wincing, I went to the store. I must say I have never seen such small shops before. The city has large supermarkets with a huge selection, but here there was almost nothing, but the locals were proud of it. As it turned out, this is the only store in five villages. I felt terrified and wanted to go home, fall into a soft bed and sit in contact. But my parents didn’t pay attention to all my persuasions to leave, saying that I would still like it here. A week passed, I already wanted to run away from here, but I had to endure it. Village food was disgusting to me and I ate almost nothing. Out of boredom, I didn’t know what to do with myself. And so my grandmother sent me to the forest to pick mushrooms. Making my way through the bushes, I tore my new clothes and got dirty, I picked mushrooms, thinking about how to take revenge on my parents for such a terrible vacation. And suddenly it began to rain. I was standing under a spreading oak tree, soaking wet, when suddenly I heard laughter. I already wanted to kill the one who was laughing so boisterously, and I saw a barefoot guy who, bursting with laughter, rushed, completely wet, under the tree where I was standing. The first thing I noticed was shoulder-length brown hair, then ocean-blue eyes. He spun around in the rain, laughing, and almost knocked me off my feet. His blue eyes looked at me with curiosity. He saw a short girl with brown hair and gray eyes. I was never proud of myself, considering myself ugly, and now I lowered my eyes, seeing such a handsome guy in front of me. I immediately blushed, my clothes were torn and I was dirty. Bursting with tears, I wanted to run away, but the guy grabbed my hand and pulled me towards him, calmly wiped away my tears and hugged me. I felt awkward, and he noticed this, released me from his embrace and looked at me seriously. - You're not local. – It sounded like a statement, not a question. I nodded. – You know, walking through the forest in such clothes is not only inconvenient, it’s just dangerous. - Looking at me with blue eyes, he said this in such a way that I felt ashamed. I really wanted to run away, but the guy grabbed my hand and led me along. The guy dragged me to a neighboring village, it turned out that he lives here. It should be clarified that his name was Misha. He took me into the house. Everything there is the same as at grandma's. I saw very beautiful woman, she was busy around the house. She had long black hair braided into a tight braid, green eyes, and she was a real village beauty. - Mom, I'm not alone. - Misha said. – Who this time? Cat dog? – The woman asked and turned around. She looked at me in surprise. - Did you climb in the swamp? - We were in the forest. And I’m generally clean, but she’s a city girl. - The guy answered. - And now it’s clear! – Mom said smiling. The woman took my hand and led me away. Misha's mother washed and dressed me, I was terribly awkward. She gave me a beautiful colorful dress. Thinking, I returned home. My parents looked at me in surprise. I walked in a beautiful dress that I would never wear in the city. They decided that I had had enough and wanted to leave, but I agreed to stay. Getting up early in the morning, along with the roosters, I went down to breakfast; today there were pancakes with milk, which I didn’t like so much. Grandma put an empty plate in front of me, saying that I wasn’t eating anything anyway. - Grandma, forgive me. I want to eat. “I hugged my grandmother tenderly. She smiled and gave me breakfast. I ate pancakes and drank milk. My parents and grandmother looked at me, smiling. After breakfast, I went into the forest again to pick mushrooms, since I didn’t bring them yesterday. While picking mushrooms, I kept thinking about Misha. Lost in thoughts, I didn’t notice anything. - Hey! – came from behind me. I turned around and saw the one who was occupying all my thoughts. - What is your name? – Misha asked. - I'm Arina. The guy looked at my basket and laughed - There are only toadstools here. – I don’t understand them. – I said calmly. - Let me help? - Misha suggested. I nodded. He led me to the river. There were a lot of mushrooms there, while I was picking them, Misha picked a bouquet of beautiful flowers and gave them to me. Now life in the village did not seem so scary to me, I was happy. Misha didn’t let me get bored, we went to the forest or to the river, he showed me a bunch of beautiful places. I forgot my city friends and fell in love with Misha with all my heart. He was absolutely different from the city guys, kind, affectionate and very caring. It's time to say goodbye. I didn’t know how to tell Misha about my feelings and I had to leave. Having said goodbye to my beloved, I didn’t say a word about my feelings, but said that I would come next summer. My parents and I arrived in the city. Now here it became difficult for me to breathe. I missed Misha, my grandmother, the peace and quiet, the smell of fresh milk, even the annoying rooster. I went to school and saw that people in the village are much better than in the city. I was disappointed in my city friends. And melancholy came over me. One morning I was woken up by a scream. - Arina, Arina. I looked out the window and saw Misha. I was surprised how he found me and at the same time I was glad. It turned out that he couldn’t live without me, he found out from my grandmother where I lived and rushed to me. It was raining, and we were hugging. I convinced my parents and went to live with my grandmother. I studied and lived in the village. This is how my best vacation went.
Cleanest air, filled with the freshness of mown grass, endless horizons of ripe wheat... Country summer is the extraordinary charm of silence and solitude, the captivating aromas of living nature, the sparkling coolness of fast rivers and mirror lakes.
This summer I spent in the village will be remembered for many years. Here everything awakens with the first rays of the sun, and I, waking up at dawn, could greedily inhale this incomparable smell of the morning, enjoy the delicate colors of the sunrise and watch how the solar disk, rising, becomes
It's getting hotter and hotter.
A morning in the village can provide such wonderful entertainment as a trip to the river, swimming in clear water where nimble fish scurry about. You can go into the forest in search of berries, or ride a bike through the picturesque surroundings. And even an ordinary village breakfast, hearty and incredibly tasty, complemented by a mug of warm fresh milk, can be an excellent start to a new day for any city dweller.
However summer holidays in the countryside is not only the pleasure of leisurely relaxation, but also hard work. And I, along with other village children, tried to be useful and help with the everyday running of the household. I fed chickens and ducks with grain, collected lush grass for rabbits, grazed geese in the meadow, drove a cow out to pasture, took buckets full of the freshest food from the well. cold water, weeded the beds, climbed high on the apple tree, and picked ripe and sweet fruits. But any work, at the same time, gave me sincere joy, and, seeing the results of my work, I understood how important it is to be a truly diligent and diligent worker in order to achieve success in life and strengthen my will.
And how pleasant it is to end your day at dawn, when a bright sunset fills the sky and the air is filled with wonderful aromas. How wonderful it is to dine with appetite on the open veranda, realizing that this long and troublesome day was not in vain. A short walk after dinner, the tranquility of a falling asleep village is a unique impression of my summer, where I found real happiness and joy, the colorfulness of every day.
(No ratings yet)
Other writings:
- Have a great time free time maybe in the village. There you can hide from the hot, stuffy city and relax. In the village you can go to the forest, river or lake. A great place to relax is, of course, the lake. Only water removes all Read More......
- As always, the summer passed unnoticed. But it was the most unforgettable of all. I spent this summer in the village. I used to go to my grandmother every year. But it so happened that last year I was not able to stay with them. For two Read More......
- In the summer I rested in the village with my grandfather. The fishing village of Vyselki is located in the Arkhangelsk region, so in the summer it is not hot there and I did not feel the Moscow heat at all. From my first day in Vyselki until the last, I did the usual things: I ran Read More ......
- In the summer I was on the Mediterranean Sea with my parents and older sister. A holiday at sea is my favorite holiday. Sun, sea, mountains, pine trees, sand, shells, banana and boat rides - all this was unforgettable. We went on a tour of Read More......
- At the beginning of July I went to Italy to the seaside city of Alassio to participate in the European Championships in ballroom dancing. The four of us flew, me with my dad and my ballroom dancing partner with her dad. The flight soared from our Read More......
- For a whole year now I have been attending the archeology and ethnography club at the Palace of Children and Youth Creativity, so I spent half of last summer on an archaeological expedition. We lived in tents, cooked food over a fire and did real scientific research– excavated Read More ......
- I spent the whole summer with my beloved grandmother in the village of Solnechnaya Polyana. During this glorious and joyful time, I swam, sunbathed, rested, played with local and visiting children from the city. In the village, I actively helped my grandmother take care of the garden: Read More ......
- Winter is very good time of the year. Everything outside is white and white, nature seems to have frozen in anticipation of a miracle. And a miracle is a holiday New Year! Guests came to our home to celebrate the New Year. It was fun! After the clock struck 12, I read More......
Composition
The cleanest air, filled with the freshness of mown grass, endless horizons of ripe wheat... Country summer is the extraordinary beauty of silence and solitude, the captivating aromas of wildlife, the sparkling coolness of fast rivers and mirror lakes.
This summer I spent in the village will be remembered for many years. Here everything awakens with the first rays of the sun, and I, waking up at dawn, could greedily inhale this incomparable smell of the morning, enjoy the delicate colors of the sunrise and watch how the solar disk, rising, becomes hotter and hotter.
A morning in the village can provide such wonderful entertainment as a trip to the river, swimming in clear water where nimble fish scurry about. You can go into the forest in search of berries, or ride a bike through the picturesque surroundings. And even an ordinary village breakfast, hearty and incredibly tasty, complemented by a mug of warm fresh milk, can be an excellent start to a new day for any city dweller.
However, summer holidays in the countryside are not only about enjoying a leisurely holiday, but also about hard work. And I, along with other village children, tried to be useful and help with the everyday running of the household. I fed chickens and ducks with grain, collected lush grass for rabbits, grazed geese in the meadow, drove a cow out to pasture, took buckets full of the freshest cold water from the well, weeded the beds, climbed high up an apple tree, and picked ripe and sweet fruits. But any work, at the same time, gave me sincere joy, and, seeing the results of my work, I understood how important it is to be a truly diligent and diligent worker in order to achieve success in life and strengthen my will.
And how pleasant it is to end your day at dawn, when a bright sunset fills the sky and the air is filled with wonderful aromas. How wonderful it is to dine with appetite on the open veranda, realizing that this long and troublesome day was not in vain. A short walk after dinner, the tranquility of a falling asleep village is a unique impression of my summer, where I found real happiness and joy, the colorfulness of every day.
