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I’ll tell you that, every time I return from a long trip to the Eastern Sayan or Khamar-Daban or from a short one in the vicinity of our city, out of habit I bring in my backpack several branches of cedar or juniper, golden rhododendron or fragrant sagaan dali. These simple bouquets stand on my desk for a long time. The same bouquet, I admit, could often be seen on the table of the woman I loved. And each of them contains for me an immense storehouse of romantic impressions.

This is the fresh wind of the mountains, and the shine of silver threads of waterfalls, and the blue ice of frozen rivers, and magical blue shadows on the snow in the twilight of a short winter day, and the lush herbs of alpine meadows. When I look at a bouquet, I seem to feel that each of its branches is saturated with the elements of natural forces and carries within itself an extraordinary charge of energy, a charge of health and a great joy of life. After all, it has long been noticed that when a person finds himself in a pine forest, he wants to straighten his chest and take a deep breath, and when he finds himself in a birch forest, the surge of emotions becomes even greater… It seems to me that I experience the same thing when looking at my bouquet for a long time.