All my life I've lived on the edge of a magical forest. It is not big at all, everywhere you look there is a gap. It looks like any other forest - an ordinary mixed forest: aspen and birch trees. Sometimes there are fir-trees - graceful and fluffy, they like to cluster together like chatty girlfriends. There are also solitary oaks, stumpy and proud, with lacy foliage, penetrated by the sun. And only once I saw a pine - the queen above all the trees. Its smooth, reddish trunk rushed upward like a mast, and its crown rumbled so high above my head that it seemed like the sea, rolling waves somewhere beyond consciousness, where the sky's blue splashes around the cloudy reefs.