Tales of an entomologist. About adventures and travel

Uh, something didn't inspire this piece of readers... It seems that an increase in drama was expected. The huntsman jumped out... Heinz knocks out the carbine with a precise heel kick. Then follow us by helicopter. I adjust the scope to the captured carbine... Oh, what an action movie could come out! But this is just an essay...

A wonderful essay, Wild Yuri! We are waiting for the continuation!

Yura, thank you for your stories!
There is everything-the spirit of Travel, talent, humor, self-irony.
It's great that while chasing butterflies, you were able to see this amazing world and share it with us.
Юра

"WHITE MOTH", ending

So the poetry of place and action ended. The chill of early morning. Road. We stand on the side of the road and wait for a ride to Ust-Nehru. There are backpacks in the bushes. In the pocket of my trousers, in a cigarette pack, there are bags of catch. There are even a few cigarettes in it for conspiracy purposes. "There's nothing to smoke, brother, in the winter quarters.
Give me a pack!
The hand with it hovers in the air...
- Yuri, autum!
I forgot myself. I didn't sleep well last night...
we're slowing down the dump truck. It goes, alas, for several km. From the base where Katanyi is located… We learn from the driver that the road has not yet been restored. Rushes on.
This is no longer encouraging. The truckers we need are coming from Khandyga!
Heinz hid his two moths in a mini-box in Panama. In German, thoughtfully. However–
- A camouflage cap-for a German panama hat! Okay?
The huntsman again. They like to change here with tourists "anything", as a souvenir.
Hanz holds the fields of Panama…

We go to the dining room for breakfast. We are attached to it until departure. As a token of gratitude, the team left most of the expedition products.
Then there was lunch. Supper.
We are standing sadly by the highway.
We sit on a log that has been rolled up from the site, waving away the" growing " mosquitoes and listening to the spirit of Suntar Hayat throwing huge stones into the gorge.
There are no cars…

And so three days passed.
It's always been torture for me to wait more than an hour for something.
It was an execution.
We were on duty around the clock, having learned from the workers that the "trucker" also happens at night. One sleeps, the other watches. There's a shift in two hours.
We were deeply tanned under the winning sun.
Well, it's like always away...
We discussed dozens of topics, from football to current sports, and even had a couple of quarrels in international politics.
On the third day, the "moral" forces left us. We became silent…

Fourth day. We're starting
to have auditory hallucinations..." (I can hear the car!)
"No, Heinz. It's a river.
And vice versa.
Magnificent mountains. Teplyn. Newborn arcticuses crawling out of the shale… I wish I could stay here a little longer. Go to the gorges. Look for us, huntsman!
I think I'm having visual hallucinations.
Without a sound, a UFO grows up on the highway.
We stare in fascination... at us. Katanyi hired aliens!
UFO turns into a luxury silver jeep. I've never seen anything like this before in Yakutia.
I'm even afraid to raise my hand.
I lift...
the Jeep slows down gently. The window rolls down...
- Where?
"Elga!
– We're going to Brungade..."
This is a river on the highway, 70 km from Elga. Halfway to Ust-Nera! Let's go!

Get your backpacks in a jiffy… The driver helps you put them in the trunk. We are located in the back seat. There's another passenger ahead. Turns around...
– Hermann Klose!
"Heinz Schultz..."
In the vast expanses of Sakha, where people are rare as yetis, two Germans met!
Herman turned out to be the head of roads of the Tompon district (the capital is Khandyga). Originally from the Volga Germans. Born and raised in Yakutia.
And here-forever!
- I love the local nature, solitude...
He tells me that he recently visited his brother in vaterlyand. Noise, bustle! I couldn't wait to get home...
The car slows down. Herman takes his camera out of the glove compartment, walks over to the side of the road and takes a picture of a fresh washout. In another place – a stone that fell from a mountain onto the highway...
- So we work. I took it on camera and sent it to the road workers for correction!
Reports that the track near Khandyga was restored today, and he also took photos there. Passed first...
I can guess who was second. Well, we were lucky!..

Lawn. Trailer...
- Lunch!
For the driver, Herman... and us, at his invitation.
A smiling chef. White tablecloth. Wild mushroom soup and lightly salted grayling, with new potatoes.
I'm starting to get cramps.

- Yes, I didn't like it, Heinz, you have in Germany, – says Herman, putting a small grayling in his mouth.
His brother treated him to champignons and fish from the supermarket. The Germans swell up from hormones and fertilizers. The nation is degenerating...
The much less slender Heinz stares meekly at his plate… In Germany – bursa. His family home. Dagma…
In fact, he once remarked that if our shift crew suddenly drove through the streets of his quiet Bielefeld, half the residents would have a heart attack.

In the late afternoon we arrive at Bryngade. End of inspection. Herman "rents" us... to the head of the next section of bridges!
Two trailers. Canopy...
- Heil Hitler! The warden shouts at Heinz when he finds out he's German.
Round. Cheerful. Slightly older than Heinz.
"Did you bring Frau?"
Herman hands us his business cards.
– You can contact us if you need anything!
Cool guy. We shake his strong hand. UFO disappears among the mountains and taiga.

The new chief leads us directly under the awning. Kitchen. Table. A bowl of fried grayling and a pan of moose meat.
"Eat, you fascist face!"
He laughs. I don't translate for Heinz...
his name is Oleg. On a plot of one. The brigade was disbanded after the bridge was handed over. There are still trailers and a kitchen. Hunting. Grayling.
That's just the problem...
- There are no women. Where's Frau?
Orders Heinz to bring it back next time!
Funny… Glasses on the table! There is a pepper pot "in the stash". And moose meat...
After the meal, he gives us a trailer. We can live at least until winter.

Leaving our things in it, we take turns on the track with Heinz.
The sound of mosquitoes. In the hand of moskitol...
In the evening-a car! The same "loaf" as… I shudder. There is no lane. I vote...
15 Yakuts squeezed into the volume, maximum, for 8! They go hunting along the Bryngade.
Past...
On duty – all night. "The desert"!

In the morning-always cheerful Oleg, pancakes and tea. We consider the grayling catch ...
we almost miss the UAZ! I flew along the highway already for a section, but got up, on my desperate run.
And again the boss! Construction of the bridge on the Elga. That's where he's going, and tomorrow-to Ust-Nehru! He will cross in a longboat. And there it will be "picked up" by another car…
He takes us without question.
There are two other passengers in the car. Even hunters. A young man and almost an old man, with long hair pulled back under a kerchief tied behind. The face of Dersu Uzal, from the movie. He looks at us carefully all the way. Both are silent.

Here's Elga! A whole city of trailers… Hidden by the forest last time. The first bridge supports and one span are ready.
The boss takes us to the "guest hut". 4 wooden couches. One is busy. An unshaven guy looks dully at the ceiling...
- I can't go to Khandyga for a week!
Arrived from Ust-Nera. From there, the usual route to Khandyga is by plane via Yakutsk. But the price of tickets is almost like to Moscow! I decided to hitchhike.
And then I fell into a trance...
It turns out that after our shift there was nothing in that direction! And if we'd missed it, we'd have been lying there...
well, how lucky we were!
Oleg invites us to dinner. Another dining car. Soup. Mountain of mashed potatoes with meat.
My first expedition where my pants are not sewn!

Morning. We go with Oleg and Heinz to the ferry. The neighbor remains waiting "until the end" ...
– Do not pay for transportation. You are workers!
Barkasczyk recognizes us, but doesn't say anything.
While swimming, Oleg tells a little about himself. Lives in the Amur region. A ten-thousand-dollar town. Desolation… Everyone flees to the Mainland. Swears perestroika. My daughter, however, is studying in America…
On the other bank – the same UAZ. Driver. We sit down. To Ust-Nehru!

And here we are in the same hotel.
Everything! The expedition is over! In the morning by taxi to Magadan ... air tickets are purchased.
Victory!!
Dusty ones. Overgrown. But very happy!
In the evening – a liter bottle of "Smirnoff". We mark it. Quickly getting drunk from fatigue and stress...
" Heinz ... lucky for us, huh?
"

Tensely feels...
- Yeh!..
"Very well, Heinz… I
study my pocket with my hand. Safe, dear ones!
Get on the only car in a week, be out of reach of the huntsman, not detected by his colleagues and exactly in the right place of fishing!
"Yuri, I'm fest deutsch goth arcticus!" (I'm the first German to catch...)
- Ye...
Not to mention the little things like living under a roof and eating out. Scopes not given to the enemy.
"Lucky... Heinz!
Drunken partisans among the endless landscapes of Sakha. With a moth that you won't ever catch in your wardrobe…

In the autumn, I learned from Volodya that Dagma had discovered the scopes when Heinz arrived.
"Heinz, what is it… Heinz...
He stands with his hands timidly at his sides and his eyes fixed on the floor.
Dagma approaches.
Now he will be martyred…

As a result, he was only excommunicated from the expeditions.
Next year, he and Dagma spend a vacation in Canada and watch Niagara Falls.
With him remains a small, very cozy entomological office, where in a favorite box of rare butterflies, in the very center of it...
- Heinz, what things...
a colleague from a neighboring city Clicks his tongue.
... among the huge birdwings and dazzling agriasas...
" Honey, when will you tell me how much they cost?"
This is a much-matured Dagma.
...spread out on thin pins... snow-white…
... tiny ...
- My best breakfast!
The spirit of Suntar Hayat, in the guise of a leatherhead, once again tries to "crack" the box.

---

Tomorrow - the latest photos and a small afterword.

This post was edited by Wild Yuri - 05/26/2011 23: 28

It resembles the style of S. Dovlatov's short stories...

Yura, bravo!!!
You make me laugh in Russian, with anguish. After your stories, I can't come to my senses for a long time. Something to think about.
Perfectly!
When can I buy a collection of your short stories?
23.08.2010. Pyatigorsk, Beshtau Mountain. Yuri Berezhnoy in the company of Anton Biryukov and Alexander Ivanov found a rare belladonna.

Oh, Valentine, and you're on the site? Thank you for your feedback! How they searched for belladonna in Beshtau, "attacking" blackberries-also in memory and asks for an essay. Thank you for that tour! Stories... will they arrange it at the end of the summer? I plan to visit your places again!

There will be only one photo, in the final. Not exactly the right box, but... according to the plot!
I am a weak and lazy photographer. In addition, his right arm was damaged... In the new season, I will take more active photos. Interest in this case has been aroused, and the camera is better. In the meantime, I recommend it (very much!) view an album about the Suntar Khayat of a Yakut gamekeeper and class photographer: http://fotki.yandex.ru/users/sandro1/album/15157/. Among the photos you will see... Katanyi! Judging by the portrait, we probably wouldn't have left... The mentioned photographer also compiled an album about insects of Yakutia. Also impressive: http://fotki.yandex.ru/users/sandro1/album/14892/. Well, his general album about Yakutia, where there are "Martian mountains" and landscapes of the world before us: http://educationally.narod.ru/geo2photoalbum.html.

This post was edited by Wild Yuri - 02/20/2011 23: 19

Pictures:

__01_.jpg — (291.58 k)

And a little afterword...
I received a letter from a reader who was outraged by the plot of the story. Anthem to poaching. He is always on the side of the state. I'm not. There are stupid things like protecting this arcticus, which is just a poorly studied species. Full of it, in certain stations, on Suntar Hayat. Yakuts do not study and do not let others in. So, they are guarded just in case. And a lot of other similar nonsense, in the" legislative cases " on insects. There is bad law and common sense. I'm always on the side of the latter.
In general, Yakutia is the most interesting region for entomology. There is the Moma Range, the size of the Pyrenees, where NO entomologist has EVER set foot. Chokkurdakh Mountains, Verkhoyansk region, Oymyakon and Aldan highlands... Chersky ridge... And ten lifetimes won't be enough to go around and see everything! Suggestion to all: think about Yakutia in your entomological plans. Let it be expensive, huntsmen and bears, night minuses and angry mosquitoes... large click-throughs... hitchhiking... evil spirits of the mountains (Yakuts believe in them), but the material and impressions of the absolutely wild nature there are worth it a hundredfold!

In general, Yakutia is the most interesting region for entomology.

Faunistically, yes, all the mountains are poorly studied. But in terms of discovering new species, I don't think so. In Eastern Siberia, insects have huge ranges and it is hardly worth making such titanic efforts to reach such remote places. These same species also live in more accessible areas.

This post was edited by Proctos - 02/21/2011 00: 05

There, many species are very local - yakuticola, arcticus, erebia kallias cherskensis (which, I think, is a separate species), eneis alpina... The Moma Mountains may have their own "arcticus" - a similar species. And a bunch of undescribed subspecies... Collectors have a great love for them.

kallias from the Chersky Mountains is a separate species. I've been working on this group in great detail right now - I had to. And that's for sure - both cherskiensis, chastilovi, and Saurian sibirika are most likely their own species.
Erebia churkini was recently described from the Polar Urals.
There is an endemism in the mountains of Siberia. It is also found in the mountains of Mongolia, which has already been proven by Churkin and me.
Yakutia and the Koryak Highlands - that's what a smart and rich entomologist needs to explore. Yes - it's easier and cheaper to go to Thailand! But...
Siberia is waiting for you.

amazing photos on the links! Super.

White moth, you say... The story is interesting and instructive, a little true telegraph style, but if you consider that all the events are restored from memory (I think the diary in such a safe trip is an unacceptable luxury), then it turned out well. Here would be more photos in it (strictly according to the place of events!) and quite well.
But, here's what's interesting turns out, and Kaabak and you, it turns out that if not for civilization (and His Majesty the CASE), then you and" Hans " vryat li would have managed not only to find butterflies, but also to get to those places in time (!) would not have been destined. You need the skills of a hunter or a decent fisherman, samoyed advanced tourist, etc.
Eversmann once had a collector named Kindermann, a naturalist and adventurer who had traveled to places so far away and deadly that it was simply creepy. He was even a prisoner of war... That's exactly where the extreme is - maybe there are memories of it???

  
Eversmann once had a collector named Kindermann, a naturalist and adventurer who had traveled to places so far away and deadly that it was simply creepy. He was even a prisoner of war... That's exactly where the extreme is - maybe there are memories of it???

I don't know much about Kindermann... Sinyaev. That's who you need to write to!

Yuri, thank you so much for this fascinating story!!!It was very interesting!

I always tell Vita - you need to write

roman and what types of eneis in aktash are found, one got very interesting no one determined, maybe aberant or something interesting, where to send a photo if anything?

Another bike

Once in the year 1998, Ustyuzhanin was visited in Novosibirsk by someone who was a specialist in daytime butterflies, very similar to many defending specialists who distinguish a butterfly from a sparrow and are happy about it.
Pyotr raaskazyvali him - on day butterflies, my dear man, you need to look at the recently published book about the diaries of the USSR. You should definitely buy this book, the Ace book...
In the morning, the scientist woke up, Peter was not at home and he turned to Peter's wife Lyudmila (an anesthesiologist). Where do you have a bookstore in Novosibirsk? I'll go now. I'll buy this Tuz book.
Luda, not being an entomologist, says
-Young man, this book is in the store, you are unlikely to find it, it is sold by order, by mail, and even if there is, you probably won't be able to buy it. My dear, she's an infestation.
- No, - says the lepidopterologist, - I'll go, find out, order.
then, lacing up his boots, he asked with interest:
- And why is this book called Tuzovskaya?
Oh Transbaikalia!

Having met once at the end of an expedition in Turkey (collected in parallel), we decided to celebrate the meeting with a bottle of local raki. Drink for an amateur, but in principle you can drink. However, a former Turkish entomologist with us (who refused the national drink and drank more international alcohol) said that we do not know how to drink raki. Well, he's a Turk, he knows best. They asked me what I should do. He explained that first, the glasses should be filled to the top, and secondly, the raki should be drunk slowly. Okay. They immediately poured another round, this time drinking "Turkish style". After finishing their drink (utter rubbish), they expressed their, let's say, disapproval of the Turkish method, and only then did they see the Turk's rounded eyes. After that, he apologized for his English, and explained that he meant something slightly different. The glasses had to be filled to the top with water. And " slowly "meant"not so often."..

raki is written, raki is read. not raki.
Turkish anise tincture
is drunk in the same way as the Greek counterpart-ouzo, and its stronger and smelly modification-tzipuro. Actually, tzipuro is what makes ouzo, a kind of anise moonshine. Method of use:

find a quiet coastal tavern / tavern on the Bosphorus (depending on where you are).
order fried octopus, fish, horta, skurdalja (if you are in Greece) or fish, dzadzyk (analogous to Greek dzadziki), cheese and fruit (if you are in Turkey).
eat everything ordered
pour half a glass of raka (ouzo), add water
to drink slowly, enjoying every sip of a refreshing hot drink

drinking raki or ouzo like Russian vodka is wrong. raki is not vodka, it is drunk differently, the effect is correspondingly different.

The message was edited rhopalocera.com - 06.03.2011 22: 02

  
drinking raki or ouzo like Russian vodka is wrong. raki is not vodka, it is drunk differently, the effect is correspondingly different.

What other effect? The whole world knows Russian vodka and drinks it with pleasure, but raki - only Turks and then with water, after eating, otherwise the effect will not work.

What other effect? The whole world knows Russian vodka and drinks it with pleasure, but raki - only Turks and then with water, after a meal, otherwise the effect will not work .

Can I tell you HOW the whole world drinks Russian vodka? and HOW do they (the whole world) enjoy it?
then
vodka is poured into a glass. 50 grams. top up to full juice (usually grapefruit), and throw ice. similarly, they drink whiskey (toka instead of juice-cola), gin (instead of juice-tonic), etc. do not say more than what you do not know, please. it's very funny.


ps. raks are known all over the world no less than Russian vodka. this is true, by the way . I do not advise you to underestimate the bourgeoisie - you only learned about whiskey 20 years ago, and it turns out that they have been drinking it for more than two centuries ^^.

it's very funny

I'm glad I made you laugh. Drink corn moonshine (we learned 20 years ago what is called whiskey), anise burda (even manufacturers cannot drink undiluted water). To vodka, to the Russian jargonism "thump" do not apply casually, that would be your delight in "bourgeois" drinks to express. Better something about beetles, boogers ... Sincerely.

I'm glad I made you laugh. Drink corn moonshine (we learned 20 years ago what is called whiskey), anise burda (even manufacturers cannot drink undiluted water). To vodka, to the Russian jargonism "thump" do not apply casually, that would be your delight in "bourgeois" drinks to express. Better something about beetles, boogers ... With respect.

I do not drink. I'm having a drink. Rarely, only with good people and under a good snack. What I wish you as well. I don't feel enthusiastic about alcohol - there is no reason, no addiction. I tried different types of alcohol, but I didn't find anything better for myself than dry red wine and retsyn. Boogers are well preserved in alcohol, and beetles are also well preserved. But I recommend storing it separately.

Can I tell you HOW the whole world drinks Russian vodka? and HOW do they (the whole world) enjoy it?
then
vodka is poured into a glass. 50 grams. top up to full juice (usually grapefruit), and throw ice.

Here are the savages! Well, what can you do, Asia-S. "What did this buffoon PeGe bring the planet to"(c)

I do not drink. I'm having a drink. Rarely, only with good people and under a good snack. What I wish you as well. I don't feel enthusiastic about alcohol - there is no reason, no addiction. I tried different types of alcohol, but I didn't find anything better for myself than dry red wine and retsyn. Boogers are well preserved in alcohol, and beetles are also well preserved. But I recommend storing it separately.

Thank you for your suggestions! I agree, especially with good people... and recommendations for storage...

Retsina is lovely!

  
vodka is poured into a glass. 50 grams. top up to full juice (usually grapefruit), and throw ice. similarly, they drink whiskey (toka instead of juice-cola), gin (instead of juice-tonic), etc. do not say more than what you do not know, please. it turns out very funny.
ps. raks are known all over the world no less than Russian vodka. this is true, by the way . I don't advise you to underestimate the bourgeoisie - you only learned about whiskey 20 years ago, and it turns out that they have been drinking it for more than two centuries ^^.

Conducting entomological tours for foreigners, I know exactly how they drink vodka. In any case, in Russia. Without juice. Not in one gulp. Zest a little at a time. However, it also happens in a single salvo (some Germans and Finns), but with juice honestly never happened. And I am often told: you Russians drink incorrectly. You can't do it in one gulp. Harmful to health. It is necessary to filter... But something didn't change anyone's mind.

The story of Japanese Satoshi drinking alcohol.
Last summer I stayed with four Japanese people in a hotel in Dalnegorsk. Voronezh entomologist Volodya K. drove up. He had alcohol. We have vodka. The Japanese can't live without it in the evenings. When I went to the grocery store, they always gave me the first sentence:"Vodka!" And they were slowly pouring it out... The Japanese are a nation of alcoholics. Not us. Fact.
The vodka was gone, and the conversation was just getting hotter. It's time for alcohol... Volodya said that he drank it undiluted. The Japanese didn't believe it. He splashed alcohol into the glass and swallowed it, washing it down with water. Just a little grimace...
The leader of the Japanese said that he also wants to try undiluted alcohol! He'll be the first Japanese person to drink it. Volodya hesitated... Will it be the last one? And I began to explain to him that it was not an easy matter. Alcohol should be drunk like this. You take half a glass of alcohol in your right hand, a full glass of water in your left, and exhale ... haa. Understood? You drink alcohol in one gulp and immediately wash it down with water. You can breathe.
The Japanese nodded that everything was clear. They gave him alcohol. He exhaled. I drank it... Sitting with bulging eyes. Wash it down with water! Volodya shouts. He drank it down. Still eyes like in the anime and can't say anything. Then he came to his senses and says it's cool. He had never experienced such feelings in his life.
Let's do it again. They poured it again. Pop... I forgot to exhale! Alcohol vapors entered the lungs... They beat the Japanese man on the back and gave him water to drink. Barely caught my breath. Ho... Says. Fantastic! I'm ready for more... We poured the third glass... Now according to the rules, as it should be. I washed it down with water.
He sits in silence. Satoshi, are you okay? Smiling. He says he's starting to fly off somewhere. After five minutes, he doesn't say anything. Sitting, swinging... Flight on the third space station. They put me to bed.
The rest of the Japanese tried diluted alcohol. They also "flew away" soon... And we barely made it to the rooms.
The next day, the Japanese came to the cafeteria for breakfast an hour and a half later than scheduled. Which was a terrible violation, because I had never seen this nation more than 5 minutes late before.

This post was edited by Wild Yuri - 02/14/2012 20: 47

They're not bad people, the Japanese. May God help them overcome this catastrophe.

Alcohol is still something, so holy water-here they would try moonshine from sugar beet (from the side it resembles the consistency of milk)! Truly stunning stuff, and when you drink it for the first time - unimaginable taste sensations... just the smell of strange people makes it stormy. Distill and clean the mess.

And they have sake-with the smell of moonshine. Naturally our diluted moonshine! 10-20 degrees. Warm. It's creepy...

What other effect? The whole world knows Russian vodka and drinks it with pleasure, but raki - only Turks and then with water, after a meal, otherwise the effect will not work .

Vodka it is also vodka in Africa.And this drink in the Mediterranean countries has a lot of names.In Greece-ouzo,In Turkey-raki, in the countries of the Arab coast-arak.But it's the same everywhere.For a traveling entomologist, I still advise you to do anthropology.Taste of local food and drinks.Stas deliciously described the method of consumption,I agree with him.It may scare away a specific smell, taste and color (it gets cloudy and sometimes turns white after adding water to it), but it's worth a try.Moderately, not like vodka.After all,as they say, there is not much vodka, and this drink (diluted with water)"it happens.Don't DRINK undiluted like vodka-a rare muck

What are you guys doing here???
In short, we went with one pretzel for the Volga, from our side. And he has a dog. Bitch.Estrus. Two wolves came. They wanted to fuck her. Fuck, we're cooler.

Tigran, where are you? . Why is this topic dead????

What are you guys doing here???
In short, we went with one pretzel for the Volga, from our side. And he has a dog. Bitch.Estrus. Two wolves came. They wanted to fuck her. Fuck, we're cooler.

Poor, miserable wolves.

I once went out of town to chase butterflies...
it was a long time ago. Pandora was breathtaking, Galatea
fluttered divinely, and Zorka was an unattainable dream…
I stopped in a tiny steppe gully.
There is a lot of confusion around entomology… I stand and look around. A little to one side, in the grass – a huge blacksmith.
Ah-well, ah-well, I'll catch it now. I'm starting to sneak up...
And he doesn't jump. I wanted to run across the grass. Easy prey.
Here's a pancake, obshadilsya ... yes, and I obshadilsya, but not childishly so ...
Monster straight. Hefty… But it's kind of underdeveloped…
There are no long wings... is it a nymph?
What should I do with it? It will turn black when drying or even rot...
I collect butterflies… I held it, held it, and threw it in the grass.
Let him live!

P.S. Years have passed... I once came to this balochka.
"Blacksmith" to catch your own… At this point, the grader who was planning
the road around the fields for agricultural machinery made a couple of U-turns...
without raising his knives… Well, at least I didn't cut the thorn bushes…

P. P. S. And I went for the "blacksmith" this, after reading the topic about
Callimenus multituberculatus

Give me a kiss On your Melitopol lips.

Papis, this is a story about your trip to Tai