Koval sparrow lake read. Read the book Sparrow Lake
Sparrow Lake passerine LAKE HRYUKALKA DICK AND BLUEBERRY STAR IDE Chagaev NEIGHBORHOOD dinghy cloudberry PORCELAIN HANDBELLS Panteleyev cakes lapwing Zimnyakov THREE Jay One, two, horses, four white and yellow suspension bridges Dipper-RYA GRACH HORSE Conceived formic KING NIGHT Ribbons LAKE cues cleft BOUQUET Bullfinch AND CATS GRAY NIGHT SHEET OLD APPLE TREE-SHEN-SHEN SUMMER CAT NIGHT BURNS SNOW RIDER SPRING HARNESS TRAILS CLOUDS AND CRUSKS ABOUT AUTHORS
SPARROW LAKE
Once upon a time I heard stories about Sparrow Lake.
They said that there are huge breams that do not fit into the basin, perches that do not fit into the bucket, monstrous pikes that do not fit into anything at all.
It was surprising that pikes and perches are so huge, and the lake is Vorobyinoe.
You already go to the Sparrow Lake. You will find him there in the woods.
I once searched and got to Sparrow Lake. Not too big, but not small, it lay among spruce forests, and three islands cut its waters right in the middle. These islands looked like narrow-nosed ships, sailing one after another, and the sails of the ships were birch trees.
There was no boat, and I could not get to the islands, I began to fish.
I have seen a pike, a black perch, and a golden bream. True, all of them were not too large, fit in one bucket, and still the place remained.
I put the onion in this place, peeled potatoes, threw peas, added water and hung a bucket over the fire.
While my ear was boiling, I looked at the ship-islands, at their birch sails.
The Orioles flew over the green sails, which fought in the wind and trembled, but could not move their ships. And I liked that there are such ships in the world that cannot be budged.
Sparrow Lake
Once upon a time I heard stories about Sparrow Lake.
They said that there are huge breams that do not fit into the basin, perches that do not fit into the bucket, monstrous pikes that do not fit into anything at all.
It was surprising that pikes and perches are so huge, and the lake is Vorobyinoe.
You already go to the Sparrow Lake. You will find him there in the woods.
I once searched and got to Sparrow Lake. Not too big, but not small, it lay among spruce forests, and three islands cut its waters right in the middle. These islands looked like narrow-nosed ships, sailing one after another, and the sails of the ships were birch trees.
There was no boat, and I could not get to the islands, I began to fish.
I have seen a pike, a black perch, and a golden bream. True, all of them were not too large, fit in one bucket, and still the place remained.
I put the onion in this place, peeled potatoes, threw peas, added water and hung a bucket over the fire.
While my ear was boiling, I looked at the ship-islands, at their birch sails.
The Orioles flew over the green sails, which fought in the wind and trembled, but could not move their ships. And I liked that there are such ships in the world that cannot be budged.
Grunt
Late spring evening, when the sun hides behind the tops of trees, a strange long-billed bird appears from somewhere unknown from above. It flies low over a transparent alder and carefully looks at all clearings and clearings, as if looking for something.
Horch ... horch ... - a hoarse voice comes from above - Horch ...
Previously, in the villages they said that this was not a bird at all, but, like, a little devil was flying over the forest, looking for its horns that it had lost.
But this, of course, is not an imp. It flies over a woodcock, looking for a bride.
Woodcock evening eyes are large and dark. For the hoarse voice of a woodcock, they sometimes call it “grunt”, and for the long beak - “elephant”.
In one village, I heard, his name is affectionately “felted”. I like this name the most.
Dick and blueberries
With us in the hut lives a dog called Dick. He likes to watch me smoke. He sits opposite and looks like smoke is pouring out of my mouth.
Dick is a good dog, but a glutton. Stuff your stomach with fish entrails and bury your head under the tree so that mosquitoes do not bite - that's what he needs!
Once in the swamp I found a blueberry meadow. I couldn’t tear myself away from blueberries, I collected and ate a handful of handfuls.
Dick ran from one side to the other, looked into my mouth, not realizing what I was eating.
Yes, blueberries are, Dick! I explained. - Look how much it is.
I gathered a handful, handed it to him. He instantly removed the berries from the palm of his hand.
Go ahead now, ”I said.
But Dick did not understand where the berries came from, ran around, pushed his nose with his nose, so that I would not forget about him.
Then I decided to teach Dick a little intelligence. I am ashamed to tell, but I got on all fours, winked at him and began to eat berries right from the bush. Dick jumped in admiration, opened his mouth - and only the bushes cracked.
Two days later, Dick gathered blueberries around the hut, and I was glad that I had not taught him to love currants and cloudberries.
Star ide
In early spring, Vitya and I went fishing, to the Bridge.
Not so far from us is the Bridge, but still six kilometers. They walked, walked, knead the swamp and forest spring mud, tired. They came to the Bridge - they immediately laid a fire, they began to boil tea. Victor says:
I don’t know about you, but all my life I have been dreaming of catching a big ide.
How big? What sizes?
No less than a boot.
What kind of boot? Or plain or wandering around?
Well, it's you, man, too. An ide the size of a swamp broden! There are no such things. Let's catch the ide with the usual, familiar tarpaulin boot.
We agreed and tied up a secret donka. What is the secret of this donka, I can’t tell - Vitya will not order.
And so we planted a dozen worms on a large hook and threw it all into the water.
And the ide does not take. A small plot of worms teasing. The bell on the donk is ringing.
Tortured the plot, - Victor says, - overpowered. The plow is a small fry. In our North, roach is the horned name.
Towards evening, we somehow caught the little planks, but the ide doesn’t take anything.
And then the night came.
Geese and cranes were pulled north over the Tsypina mountain under the stars, woodcocks began to ring and giggle, and then he took the ide.
The fishing line was terribly pulled, Vitya trembled, grabbed the fishing line with both hands, pulled to the shore.
And in the distance, in the darkness at the reeds, the ide that came to the surface splashed. Silver glare fell on the water from the blows of his tail and starry spray flew.
And Vitya brought the ide to the shore and almost pulled it out, when suddenly the ide pulled. Vitya slipped and fell into the water next to the plague.
And so they both flounder in black water, and from both of them fly star spray. And I realized that the ide will leave now, if I do not come up with something.
And I came up with. I, too, fell into the water on the other side of the ide. And now we are already together in the water and between us an ide.
And above us, by the way, all the night constellations shine and stand, all the main spring stars, and it is especially clear, I see, that Leo and Gemini are standing above us. And now it seems to me that Vitya and I are twins, and between us is a lion. Everything was somehow tangled in my head.
And yet we pulled out the ide, dragged him ashore, and he turned out to be very large. There was no time to measure on the boot - night, but he did not fit into the bucket.
We put him in a bucket upside down and ran through the swamp and forest spring mud home, to Tsypina Gora. The ide beat in the bucket with its tail, and in each flake it was played by the main spring constellations - Leo and Gemini.
We hoped that the ide would not fall asleep before morning, but he fell asleep.
I was very upset that I fell asleep with a stellar ide and that there was no trace of it on the ground. He took the board, laid the ide on it and circled it with a pencil as if by contour. And then he sat for a long time - he cut out a star ide. Let at least his mark remain on my board.
And that ide that you see in the figure, we caught another time. This is not an ide, but a tongue. But for some reason he is also starry. I don’t know why. We caught him in the morning when the stars disappeared under a solar shroud ... Probably every ide is starry ...
Above the river, over the whirlpool, in which the outlandish grayling northern fish hides from a kite, there is a birch.
The trunk of the birch is curved, it either bends to the river, or pulls it from the taiga water, and the bark burst on its steepest knee.
At this place, a black birch mushroom - chaga, grew for many years.
I chopped the chaga with an ax.
Huge, with a bull’s head, she barely climbed into a backpack.
Yuri Koval
SPARROW LAKE
Sparrow Lake
Once upon a time I heard stories about Sparrow Lake.
They said that there are huge breams that do not fit into the basin, perches that do not fit into the bucket, monstrous pikes that do not fit into anything at all.
It was surprising that pikes and perches are so huge, and the lake is Vorobyinoe.
You already go to the Sparrow Lake. You will find him there in the woods.
I once searched and got to Sparrow Lake. Not too big, but not small, it lay among spruce forests, and three islands cut its waters right in the middle. These islands looked like narrow-nosed ships, sailing one after another, and the sails of the ships were birch trees.
There was no boat, and I could not get to the islands, I began to fish.
I have seen a pike, a black perch, and a golden bream. True, all of them were not too large, fit in one bucket, and still the place remained.
I put the onion in this place, peeled potatoes, threw peas, added water and hung a bucket over the fire.
While my ear was boiling, I looked at the ship-islands, at their birch sails.
The Orioles flew over the green sails, which fought in the wind and trembled, but could not move their ships. And I liked that there are such ships in the world that cannot be budged.
Grunt
Late spring evening, when the sun hides behind the tops of trees, a strange long-billed bird appears from somewhere unknown from above. It flies low over a transparent alder and carefully looks at all clearings and clearings, as if looking for something.
Horch ... horch ... - a hoarse voice comes from above - Horch ...
Previously, in the villages they said that this was not a bird at all, but, like, a little devil was flying over the forest, looking for its horns that it had lost.
But this, of course, is not an imp. It flies over a woodcock, looking for a bride.
Woodcock evening eyes are large and dark. For the hoarse voice of a woodcock, they sometimes call it “grunt”, and for the long beak - “elephant”.
In one village, I heard, his name is affectionately “felted”. I like this name the most.
Dick and blueberries
With us in the hut lives a dog called Dick. He likes to watch me smoke. He sits opposite and looks like smoke is pouring out of my mouth.
Dick is a good dog, but a glutton. Stuff your stomach with fish entrails and bury your head under the tree so that mosquitoes do not bite - that's what he needs!
Once in the swamp I found a blueberry meadow. I couldn’t tear myself away from blueberries, I collected and ate a handful of handfuls.
Dick ran from one side to the other, looked into my mouth, not realizing what I was eating.
Yes, blueberries are, Dick! I explained. - Look how much it is.
I gathered a handful, handed it to him. He instantly removed the berries from the palm of his hand.
Go ahead now, ”I said.
But Dick did not understand where the berries came from, ran around, pushed his nose with his nose, so that I would not forget about him.
Then I decided to teach Dick a little intelligence. I am ashamed to tell, but I got on all fours, winked at him and began to eat berries right from the bush. Dick jumped in admiration, opened his mouth - and only the bushes cracked.
Two days later, Dick gathered blueberries around the hut, and I was glad that I had not taught him to love currants and cloudberries.
Star ide
In early spring, Vitya and I went fishing, to the Bridge.
Not so far from us is the Bridge, but still six kilometers. They walked, walked, knead the swamp and forest spring mud, tired. They came to the Bridge - they immediately laid a fire, they began to boil tea. Victor says:
I don’t know about you, but all my life I have been dreaming of catching a big ide.
How big? What sizes?
No less than a boot.
What kind of boot? Or plain or wandering around?
Well, it's you, man, too. An ide the size of a swamp broden! There are no such things. Let's catch the ide with the usual, familiar tarpaulin boot.
We agreed and tied up a secret donka. What is the secret of this donka, I can’t tell - Vitya will not order.
And so we planted a dozen worms on a large hook and threw it all into the water.
And the ide does not take. A small plot of worms teasing. The bell on the donk is ringing.
Tortured the plot, - Victor says, - overpowered. The plow is a small fry. In our North, roach is the horned name.
Towards evening, we somehow caught the little planks, but the ide doesn’t take anything.
And then the night came.
Geese and cranes were pulled north over the Tsypina mountain under the stars, woodcocks began to ring and giggle, and then he took the ide.
The fishing line was terribly pulled, Vitya trembled, grabbed the fishing line with both hands, pulled to the shore.
And in the distance, in the darkness at the reeds, the ide that came to the surface splashed. Silver glare fell on the water from the blows of his tail and starry spray flew.
And Vitya brought the ide to the shore and almost pulled it out, when suddenly the ide pulled. Vitya slipped and fell into the water next to the plague.
And so they both flounder in black water, and from both of them fly star spray. And I realized that the ide will leave now, if I do not come up with something.
And I came up with. I, too, fell into the water on the other side of the ide. And now we are already together in the water and between us an ide.
And above us, by the way, all the night constellations shine and stand, all the main spring stars, and it is especially clear, I see, that Leo and Gemini are standing above us. And now it seems to me that Vitya and I are twins, and between us is a lion. Everything was somehow tangled in my head.
And yet we pulled out the ide, dragged him ashore, and he turned out to be very large. There was no time to measure on the boot - night, but he did not fit into the bucket.
We put him in a bucket upside down and ran through the swamp and forest spring mud home, to Tsypina Gora. The ide beat in the bucket with its tail, and in each flake it was played by the main spring constellations - Leo and Gemini.
We hoped that the ide would not fall asleep before morning, but he fell asleep.
I was very upset that I fell asleep with a stellar ide and that there was no trace of it on the ground. He took the board, laid the ide on it and circled it with a pencil as if by contour. And then he sat for a long time - he cut out a star ide. Let at least his mark remain on my board.
And that ide that you see in the figure, we caught another time. This is not an ide, but a tongue. But for some reason he is also starry. I don’t know why. We caught him in the morning when the stars disappeared under a solar shroud ... Probably every ide is starry ...
Above the river, over the whirlpool, in which the outlandish grayling northern fish hides from a kite, there is a birch.
The trunk of the birch is curved, it either bends to the river, or pulls it from the taiga water, and the bark burst on its steepest knee.
At this place, a black birch mushroom - chaga, grew for many years.
I chopped the chaga with an ax.
Huge, with a bull’s head, she barely climbed into a backpack.
For several days I dried the chaga in the sun, and when the mushroom dried, chopped a black-orange core with a knife, put it in a pot, and boiled it with boiling water.
The tea was over and I was drinking chaga. It is bitter, like tea, it smells of burnt mushroom and distant spring birch sap.
Her color is thick, coffee, the color of the whirlpool, in which the northern grayling fish hides from the kite and from our eyes.
Neighborhood
I'm not afraid of snakes, but fear the most serious way. In those places where there are a lot of vipers, I always go in rubber boots and deliberately stomp heavily so that the snakes know - I'm coming.
“Again this type stomps,” the vipers probably think. - That look comes. We must leave. "
Behind our house in the stones lives a family of vipers. On warm sunny days they crawl out to bask on pebbles. For many years we have been living together, and so far - pah, pah, pah - there was no case that we quarreled.
One day Vitya decided to photograph a snake. Set a tripod in the stones, began to watch over.
Soon the viper crept out, and Victor snapped. I went to see how he takes off.
Curling up, the viper lay in the stones, lazily looking at the photographer, and behind him, at the very heels, lay the second. Vitya did not notice this second and every second could step on it. I wanted to shout already, when I suddenly saw a third crawling to the side of the tripod.
You're surrounded, ”I told the photographer. - Stop shooting.
Now, I’ll make another duplicate. Here comes the sun from behind the clouds.
The sun finally came out from behind the clouds, Victor made a duplicate and carefully, maneuvering between the vipers, carried out his tripod.
Pah, pah, pah, - I said, - nothing happened. And there was such a case with vipers.
Short stories about nature. A full-format illustration at almost every turn is simple and clear in drawing and nevertheless conveying the subtle nuances of the state of nature of the watercolor by Galina Makaveeva.
For primary school age
Yuri Iosifovich Koval
Drawings by Galina Aleksandrovna Makaveeva
Publishing house "Kid"
Moscow, 1991
SPARROW LAKE
Once upon a time I heard stories about Sparrow Lake.
They said that there are huge breams that do not fit into the basin, perches that do not fit into the bucket, monstrous pikes that do not fit into anything at all.
It was surprising that pikes and perches are so huge, and the lake is Vorobyinoe.
You already go to the Sparrow Lake. You will find him there in the woods.
I once searched and got to Sparrow Lake. Not too big, but not small, it lay among spruce forests, and three islands cut its waters right in the middle. These islands looked like narrow-nosed ships, sailing one after another, and the sails of the ships were birch trees.
There was no boat, and I could not get to the islands, I began to fish.
I have seen a pike, a black perch, and a golden bream. True, all of them were not too large, fit in one bucket, and still the place remained.
I put the onion in this place, peeled potatoes, threw peas, added water and hung a bucket over the fire.
While my ear was boiling, I looked at the ship-islands, at their birch sails.
The Orioles flew over the green sails, which fought in the wind and trembled, but could not move their ships. And I liked that there are such ships in the world that cannot be budged.
GRIP
Late spring evening, when the sun hides behind the tops of trees, a strange long-billed bird appears from somewhere unknown from above. It flies low over a transparent alder and carefully looks at all clearings and clearings, as if looking for something.
Horch ... horch ... - a hoarse voice comes from above - Horch ...
Previously, in the villages they said that this was not a bird at all, but, like, a little devil was flying over the forest, looking for its horns that it had lost.
But this, of course, is not an imp. It flies over a woodcock, looking for a bride.
Woodcock evening eyes are large and dark. For the hoarse voice of a woodcock, they sometimes call it “grunt”, and for the long beak - “elephant”.
In one village, I heard, his name is affectionately “felted”. I like this name the most.
DICK AND BLACKBERRY
With us in the hut lives a dog called Dick. He likes to watch me smoke. He sits opposite and looks like smoke is pouring out of my mouth.
Dick is a good dog, but a glutton. Stuff your stomach with fish entrails and bury your head under the tree so that mosquitoes do not bite - that's what he needs!
Once in the swamp I found a blueberry meadow. I couldn’t tear myself away from blueberries, I collected and ate a handful of handfuls.
Dick ran from one side to the other, looked into my mouth, not realizing what I was eating.
Yes, blueberries are, Dick! I explained. - Look how much it is.
I gathered a handful, handed it to him. He instantly removed the berries from the palm of his hand.
Go ahead now, ”I said.
But Dick did not understand where the berries came from, ran around, pushed his nose with his nose, so that I would not forget about him.
Then I decided to teach Dick a little intelligence. I am ashamed to tell, but I got on all fours, winked at him and began to eat berries right from the bush. Dick jumped in admiration, opened his mouth - and only the bushes cracked.
Two days later, Dick gathered blueberries around the hut, and I was glad that I had not taught him to love currants and cloudberries.
Yuri Koval
SPARROW LAKE
Sparrow Lake
Once upon a time I heard stories about Sparrow Lake.
They said that there are huge breams that do not fit into the basin, perches that do not fit into the bucket, monstrous pikes that do not fit into anything at all.
It was surprising that pikes and perches are so huge, and the lake is Vorobyinoe.
You already go to the Sparrow Lake. You will find him there in the woods.
I once searched and got to Sparrow Lake. Not too big, but not small, it lay among spruce forests, and three islands cut its waters right in the middle. These islands looked like narrow-nosed ships, sailing one after another, and the sails of the ships were birch trees.
There was no boat, and I could not get to the islands, I began to fish.
I have seen a pike, a black perch, and a golden bream. True, all of them were not too large, fit in one bucket, and still the place remained.
I put the onion in this place, peeled potatoes, threw peas, added water and hung a bucket over the fire.
While my ear was boiling, I looked at the ship-islands, at their birch sails.
The Orioles flew over the green sails, which fought in the wind and trembled, but could not move their ships. And I liked that there are such ships in the world that cannot be budged.
Grunt
Late spring evening, when the sun hides behind the tops of trees, a strange long-billed bird appears from somewhere unknown from above. It flies low over a transparent alder and carefully looks at all clearings and clearings, as if looking for something.
Horch ... horch ... - a hoarse voice comes from above - Horch ...
Previously, in the villages they said that this was not a bird at all, but, like, a little devil was flying over the forest, looking for its horns that it had lost.
But this, of course, is not an imp. It flies over a woodcock, looking for a bride.
Woodcock evening eyes are large and dark. For the hoarse voice of a woodcock, they sometimes call it “grunt”, and for the long beak - “elephant”.
In one village, I heard, his name is affectionately “felted”. I like this name the most.
Dick and blueberries
With us in the hut lives a dog called Dick. He likes to watch me smoke. He sits opposite and looks like smoke is pouring out of my mouth.
Dick is a good dog, but a glutton. Stuff your stomach with fish entrails and bury your head under the tree so that mosquitoes do not bite - that's what he needs!
Once in the swamp I found a blueberry meadow. I couldn’t tear myself away from blueberries, I collected and ate a handful of handfuls.
Dick ran from one side to the other, looked into my mouth, not realizing what I was eating.
Yes, blueberries are, Dick! I explained. - Look how much it is.
I gathered a handful, handed it to him. He instantly removed the berries from the palm of his hand.
Go ahead now, ”I said.
But Dick did not understand where the berries came from, ran around, pushed his nose with his nose, so that I would not forget about him.
Then I decided to teach Dick a little intelligence. I am ashamed to tell, but I got on all fours, winked at him and began to eat berries right from the bush. Dick jumped in admiration, opened his mouth - and only the bushes cracked.
Two days later, Dick gathered blueberries around the hut, and I was glad that I had not taught him to love currants and cloudberries.
Star ide
In early spring, Vitya and I went fishing, to the Bridge.
Not so far from us is the Bridge, but still six kilometers. They walked, walked, knead the swamp and forest spring mud, tired. They came to the Bridge - they immediately laid a fire, they began to boil tea. Victor says:
I don’t know about you, but all my life I have been dreaming of catching a big ide.
How big? What sizes?
No less than a boot.
What kind of boot? Or plain or wandering around?
Well, it's you, man, too. An ide the size of a swamp broden! There are no such things. Let's catch the ide with the usual, familiar tarpaulin boot.
We agreed and tied up a secret donka. What is the secret of this donka, I can’t tell - Vitya will not order.
And so we planted a dozen worms on a large hook and threw it all into the water.
And the ide does not take. A small plot of worms teasing. The bell on the donk is ringing.
Tortured the plot, - Victor says, - overpowered. The plow is a small fry. In our North, roach is the horned name.
Towards evening, we somehow caught the little planks, but the ide doesn’t take anything.
And then the night came.
Geese and cranes were pulled north over the Tsypina mountain under the stars, woodcocks began to ring and giggle, and then he took the ide.
The fishing line was terribly pulled, Vitya trembled, grabbed the fishing line with both hands, pulled to the shore.
And in the distance, in the darkness at the reeds, the ide that came to the surface splashed. Silver glare fell on the water from the blows of his tail and starry spray flew.
And Vitya brought the ide to the shore and almost pulled it out, when suddenly the ide pulled. Vitya slipped and fell into the water next to the plague.
And so they both flounder in black water, and from both of them fly star spray. And I realized that the ide will leave now, if I do not come up with something.
And I came up with. I, too, fell into the water on the other side of the ide. And now we are already together in the water and between us an ide.
And above us, by the way, all the night constellations shine and stand, all the main spring stars, and it is especially clear, I see, that Leo and Gemini are standing above us. And now it seems to me that Vitya and I are twins, and between us is a lion. Everything was somehow tangled in my head.
And yet we pulled out the ide, dragged him ashore, and he turned out to be very large. There was no time to measure on the boot - night, but he did not fit into the bucket.
We put him in a bucket upside down and ran through the swamp and forest spring mud home, to Tsypina Gora. The ide beat in the bucket with its tail, and in each flake it was played by the main spring constellations - Leo and Gemini.
We hoped that the ide would not fall asleep before morning, but he fell asleep.
I was very upset that I fell asleep with a stellar ide and that there was no trace of it on the ground. He took the board, laid the ide on it and circled it with a pencil as if by contour. And then he sat for a long time - he cut out a star ide. Let at least his mark remain on my board.
And that ide that you see in the figure, we caught another time. This is not an ide, but a tongue. But for some reason he is also starry. I don’t know why. We caught him in the morning when the stars disappeared under a solar shroud ... Probably every ide is starry ...