The hay harvest

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The hay harvest Сафин Никита. Школа №9, Куса, Челябинская область, Россия The sun is shining ruthlessly. It has been hot for many days. Only the white shirt can save you from gad-fly and mosquitoes. If you roll up your sleeves, they will bite you. I am on the haymaking. My dad is making a haystack, my mum is raking the hay on the volokushi. The hay is dry and light, it smells fragrant grass. The father has already thrown the half of the haystack and it`s time for to climb on to the top to flatten the hay and to steer the haystack straight. The work is not easy, it needs skill. But I have been doing this work since the 3rd class. Dry grasses always try to get under my shirt, but I have no time to pull them out. The haystackis

beginning to shake. I am keeping the top of a chopped birch which is the base for the haystack. The light wind has blown, the sun is setting behind the mountain slowly. At last the long- awaited coolness has come. The haystack has been trampled and I can go down. I have put two tied birch branches on the hay not to give the wind to scatter it. My dad throws to me the rope on which I come down carefully and flatten the footprints of my feet. Now I can sit and have acup of tea. My mum always makes a special tea from origan, St. John’s wort and rasp berry leaves (there are a lot of ). There is no tasty thing than such tea with milk. In the afternoon during a short rest my mum and I have time to gather the jar of raspberry and our cupped hands of stone berry. This summer the

raspberry has been especially big and juicy. If the rain catches us in the forest, we won’t hide in the car ( we leave it near the road) but in the shelter of branches which we have built together. From one side the mighty fir-tree shelters from wind and rain, but from the other sides we have attached the branches of a pine-tree, alder and the bird cherry broken by the wind. We have left the space for the entrance and light. What a beautiful shelter we have done! Neither wind nor rain will be terrible for us. Not far from it a brook with clean transparent water is flowing. It is never dry and always makes us happy with its coolness. My dad likes to splash on the hot day and give snorts of pleasure. I like to be on the hay harvest, to watch my parents mowing the grass. One

movement and the grass lays straight as if it is a line. My dad is able to mow without tiredness during the whole day. I have also tried but there is no result of it. The scythe always caught first stumps, then snags and sank in the soil. And also I like to cook during the hay harvest. Usually I cook soup with stewed meat and potatoes. I put dill, laurel and spring onions on my mum’s advice. A very tasty fragrance goes from the mess-tin. While I am waiting for my parents, I can take a sleep or just lay. It is quite and calm here and you don’t want to move. The clouds also have stopped and are not moving. The bees are heard to buzz in the flowers collect honey. The cuckoo has began to cuckoo, counting the years. It is so calm and joyful because it’s my little motherland.

Солнце палит нещадно. Уже который день стоит жара. От оводов и комаров спасает белая рубашка. Рукава не закатаешь, иначе закусают. Я на покосе . Папа ставит стог, мама гребет сено в волокуши, а я подскребаю за ней, чтобы поляна оставалась чистой. Сено сухое, легкое, от него исходит аромат душистых трав. Папа накидал уже половину стога, пора мне лезть на верхушку, чтобы приминать сено и выравнивать стог. Работа не из легких, требуется