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■ The oak
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I had heard many stories about this place. But nothing can compare with reality. The sweet cherries glow in the sunlight. The light seems to want to shine more than the flowers that cover up the earth like a fine coat. All stays still under a perfect blue sky. Just some bees run back and forth tasting the flowers that open in front of them.
silence on the field not an ounce of shadow - in the middle of the summer The trees almost touch. Their branches seek each other like young lovers. I come closer and comfort the old bark. I can't feel it's crust. I only feel the life pulsating inside it. That life that embodies so nicely in the little fire red spheres, which smile to me from the bended branches. red cherries on the heavy branches - an hymn to nature I bend down to take a cherry. I don't want to tear. I don't want to disturb this heavenly balance. I bite with lust from the fallen fruit. It must of broke under it's own weight, it sacrificed itself for perfection. The red juice touches my lips. It's viscid, like blood. The blood of nature, which keeps in itself so much purity...
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