Regret for the summer

The smell of summer, the chirping of small songbirds, the morning reflections of the sun on a big mountain, I miss it all at this moment. At dawn the grass by the river is wet with dew. In the early morning, only a grayling jumps on this fly from the picture. Ms. trout probably only eat gamarus for breakfast at the very bottom of the trough. At dawn the colors are cleaner, we see more shades. In the morning, a nightingale on a branch above the water leaves a trail of warm breath as it sings some of its own melody. In the morning, the sounds are different. Lipljan makes a blop-blop on the surface of a calmer river flow. The first crickets are heard only with the warm rays of the sun. In the morning you can hear the barking of dogs from a more distant village than in the evening. In the morning, a sip of coffee or juice is sweeter from a thermos bottle than during the day. And life itself has its morning, day and evening.

Miris ljeta, cvrkut sitnih ptica pjevica, jutarnji odbljesci sunca na velikoj planini, sve mi to nedostaje u ovom momentu. U zoru je trava pokraj rijeke mokra od rose. U rano jutro na ovu mušicu sa slike skače samo lipljen. Gospođa pastrmka vjerovatno doručkuje samo gamaruse po samom dnu korita. U zoru su boje čistije, vidimo više nijansi. Ujutro slavuj na nekoj grani iznad vode ostavlja trag toplog zadaha dok poji neku svoju melodiju. Ujutro su i zvukovi drugačiji. Lipljan čini blop-blop po površini mirnijeg toka rijeke. Prvi cvrči se začuju tek s toplim zrakama sunca. Ujutro se čuje lavež pasa iz udaljenijeg sela, nego predvečer. Jutrom je gutljaj kafe ili soka slađi iz termos boce, nego u toku dana. I sami život ima svoje jutro, dan i večer.

YouTube credit: Tihomir Lukić 2018. on Neretva river.