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They descended from the top of the meadow to the middle. The poppies began to part, giving way to the invasive profusion of other flowers. Blue patches of tall fragrant forget-me-nots were rippling here and there, bellflowers were swaying in the wind, the rich aroma of yellow azalea was making their heads swim. The flower thickets were interspersed with gravelly spots and grey stones protruding from the grass. Prickly debris lay thick around all stones, injuring their feet. Ivan began to choose his path more carefully, peering at the ground. At one point, a red droplet flashed in the grass in front of him. He bent over. Several large juice-filled strawberries were sparkling among small toothed leaves. No sooner had he picked them than more red blinking stars lit up before his eyes. He
