It was them here a lot, but either it is difficult to get close – to sing burner between the impassable swamps – or song weak. And, this singing in the mane of the bushes at the edge reeded section and most of all on a dry birch chippy keeps. I note that all the birds, and not just singing, they like to sit on all sorts of dead wood and palnik. Dubrovnik was very good: the long-deduced he was sad his song. Once or twice sing monotonous, then if a register and moves the same gentle, thoughtfully translated. And myrrh, allows him to come close.
Over there, in Dubrovnik, so: either too terrible savages, or calm are – wonder. I began to birch out of the bushes approached, walked broom in sight Walking the Streets – sings, that's really up to birch Five steps – do not fly away. Then I really became bolder, under the most picked up, but he sits, just shut up. "Oh you, my dear, good!" – I think, got on his knees and – most tochok clear. Ditch reeds, but on his breast, looked golden. Quickly all to the ground cleared, bait poured: flour worms, ant eggs, let him ask of hemp: "Eat, they say, lure" – and himself back, almost on all fours.
Just got out of Bolotin on a firm path chosen, it seemed – tire iron in the grass lies. Took a step closer – the wheel moving. His head went up.