Smell of early recollections. Sea, summer, and Sochi

Do you have any idea about what recollections smell like? Do they have their own aroma? My Sochi smells in no way, shape or form of peaches and hot corn. It smells like churchkhela and Chechel cheddar blended in with tart wine. Still pungent ocean. I don't wash off the salt after the ocean, I like the white, somewhat perceptible cross section on the skin, I shelter my shoulder to breathe in this smell and can't resist, I contact the pungent hand with my tongue. From an external perspective, it likely looks entertaining. The young lady shuts her eyes and kisses her shoulder. Also, I kiss the tremendous ocean that has been safeguarded on my skin. I recall my most memorable gathering with him. Distribution https://dzen.ru/a/ZNOr7USkRnz0eenK in my blog on Harmony Invite https://dzen.ru/shipshard Then I was going as an understudy on a train to Sochi for KiViN (Yearly Live performance of KVN groups). Currently more like 4 am we shown up. Furthermore, from 2 a.m. it sprinkled in obscurity. Dark Ocean. I adhered my nose to the glass and looked at the skyline. Outside the window, in the illumination of the moon, the waves breaking on the rough shore became white, all the other things blurred into obscurity. The actual night is strange and mystical, you expect some sort of achievement and a supernatural occurrence, that here it is right close to you. At 4 am we shown up at the station. The inebriating smell of joy hit his nose, and a drowsy rush of appeal spread all through his body. Behind me, alongside 1,000 kilometers and a frigid winter, I left the questions and issues of that life, venturing into the warm spring, new thrilling sentiments caught me up to my ears, which at that point didn't find a preferred way out over to shout. Truth be told, we screeched all together, the whole understudy body, tossing out a blazing wad of feelings that overpowered us.

In the first part of the day we went to the market, it was not a long way from the inn and we needed to taste the nearby variety. Also, where to search for it while perhaps not on the lookout? We scored various cheeses, for the most part chechel, interlaced, we had nothing like that. Wine was taken in one and a half-liter jugs reasonably. Furthermore, churchkhela, as New Year's festoons, they hung and amazed on the racks. With this great we went down to the city ocean side. Did I say it was winter? Have you seen winter Sochi? Furthermore, it was likewise a celebration of KVN players, where there were more bright and ingenious gulls than chatty gulls on the ocean. Wooooo. What's more, we were gotten by the radiant city and drove into its insane energy of tomfoolery. We dove into the horde of folks who came to the celebration and turned in this musicality of life. We sat on the shore, putting our exposed feet on warm rocks, drinking wine directly from the jug, since we neglected to purchase glasses, biting churchkhela and tearing cheddar.

Our program was full. The worker's guild advisory group chose to fill our days with a wide range of outings to cascades and neighborhood wonders, spoiled us with gifts for exhibitions, for which everybody really came. Consistently we meet, new excursions and undertakings. What is the Arboretum worth, we found an opening through the wall of the recreation area and stowaway rabbits advanced toward both the lower and upper Arboretum. Over the long run, I visited Sochi a few times, yet it was shut everything down, there were no more experiences to move over the wall. And afterward indeed, waved! What's more, don't be embarrassed. Be that as it may, they got show offs there, these are the people who leap out in waterproof shells, and you are right here * amazing! Such was our retaliation for unlawful passage into the recreation area.

Also, there were mountains. Stormy. Also, some sort of perception tower on the city of this Sochi. Just the city isn't noticeable, shady. Yet, you can't break us like that, we climbed straight out of sight. Straight pieces can be torn as from cotton treats. I loosen up my hand into the white murkiness and wave it in urgency to tear the white haze from the sky. Also, he swims gradually over your head, I bounce and breathe in the chilly, wet air. Wet hair, streams of dense water stream down our face, we as a whole get wet down from the pinnacle and I'm met with the inquiry: "Was it worth moving there in the event that you can't see anything?" Idiotic inquiry.

In the mountains, downpour dribbled in little drops, uncommon blossoms bowed their heads to wet stones. Seeing the travelers, some highlander approached us with a glass of wine, truth be told he was selling his wine, and he brought it as a tasting. I drank the entire glass in one swallow, bound for everybody, the intensity without a moment's delay spouted into my chest and got comfortable my head like a nitwit. Such white haze as on that pinnacle. Scrumptious? - he inquired. Furthermore, presently everything is tasty for me, pour at any rate some chacha or, as the understudies kidded, warm vodka from a cleanser dish. We take a couple of containers of red grape juice for the night and tempest the falls.