The first chapter

Dream  

1.  

I am a lot of years searched for Apollo. Nearby to search for it there was no sense though once it flied absolutely nearby - and in that area where I now I live and where many-storeyed buildings have grown, speak, it was possible to meet him without ceremony. But now is not present. Now he cannot be met not only nearby, but also in close vicinities, to go it is necessary far, to get into mountains, and there too to search and search, because, according to directory Gornostaeva, «there is it locally and in a small amount».

But with that big heat I searched for it, hoped necessarily to meet. Yes, me it was always believed, that I will by all means meet him because he is live, it remained, it should remain.

In the earliest childhood I, apparently, believed already, that I will find something such though, of course, did not imagine then as it looks, did not think at all, what is it the butterfly - big, beautiful, translucent which «flies only to solar weather». Definitely in children's my dreams its place occupied always something another: that a beautiful and mysterious toy the New Year tree, elegant and sparkling multi-coloured bulbs, and is even better flickering in incorrect light from thin, fiery live uvulas of small candles the fairy tale of the grandmother a lullaby the song of mum. And then, in that period of a life which was called once as adolescence, I too did not understand still, what is it the butterfly and with such name which coincides with a name of the god of art and light in Ancient Greek mythology. Though I, of course, already then noticed butterflies.

Whether yes only butterflies! The hospitable world, appear, has widely opened before me solar open spaces and though the childhood, the adolescence and a youth were at me completely not cloudless as, however, probably, and at the majority of people of my generation, however I persistently believed, that personal my misfortunes all it only and troubles; as well as sorrows of relatives, acquaintances and even my compatriots are only time and casual failures, coincidence of circumstances. And the world, sparkling multi-coloured paints, the solar world prebudet for ever and ever, it is, it is live, he always nearby, and to us only to try to it a key. I and now believe. Here only a key …

In the childhood and a youth hobby at me was much. Well for example, a microscope. It confused me extremely. After all through it it is possible to see what so never simply you will see! It was casually found out, that this device is at my grandmother though it always locked it in a case. It has been made of the yellow polished metal - shining, sparkling, gold, with a mobile round pocket mirror below, under a subject little table … It has appeared, the truth, what is it not a microscope, and "trjahinoskop". Why it so was called, I and now do not understand, I knew only, that increase at it not so big, however sufficient to consider, for example, infusorians. Even those poor data, that we received about the world monocelled at school, for some reason very much excited me. Tiny, not visible a simple eye, but difficult, mobile, with the surprising structure, different! Also breed for some reason division … In N.F.Zolotnitskogo's book «the Nature at school» I has read, that it is possible to make something similar to «a magic lantern» with the big flask filled with distilled water which would represent itself magnifying glass and kondensor simultaneously, - and then it is possible to consider live infusorians on the screen!

And it was not possible to me to build «a magic lantern», even the flask was difficult for getting in those days, but here there was something real - the gold microscope named "trjahinoskopom"! Certainly, it hid from me, but once the grandmother all the same has presented it to me. As breath when I established it on a table near to a lamp interrupted, regulated a pocket mirror that light reflected from it got from below to a hole of a subject little table on which the fragment of glass with a considered preparation laid! Hair, a paper, a dust, indoor plant sheet … Then I have instantly been carefully considered has recollected, that somewhere in the street, in several tram stops from my house, saw a heap of sand which turned yellow on snow - after all there was a winter! - and me terribly it wanted to consider this sand, I have rushed off behind it though there was already first o'clock in the morning …

But many-many hobbies of the childhood and a youth were, it appears, only approaches. To what? Then I could not understand it yet.

2.

Interest to a photo has passed to me from the father, perhaps, though he has not had time to train me in photographing, even to tell something about it is it was lost, when to me was not executed also twelve years. But it was the amateur photographer - the fan, - and in the inheritance from it there were two ljubovno the made picture album and two antediluvian plastinochnyh the camera - "Press photographer" and "Tourist". I almost also did not photograph them, short of shy pictures of landscapes and shestnadtsatiletnej the charming girl - the school love. And in it, perhaps, there was a symbol: I photographed that most of all liked.

The first cameras have then got lost, as has got lost and bought by me is independent in commission shop old "FED". However grain already was posejano, on the sly and imperceptibly it has sprouted, again and again I came back to employment by a photo and did not understand still, that it and becomes for me to one of those keys …

The childhood has left, the adolescence, minula and a youth has flown by. But fortunately, there was a youth. There was a freshness of sensations and belief - the main thing, belief! Here for me compensation also waited. In "historical" day on May, 26th, 1969 I left for the first time in a court yard of the old house almost in the centre of Moscow, and my brand new "Zenith" has been loaded by a colour reversible film, and between the case and an objective "magic" transitive rings which allowed to shoot at short range, close up have been screwed.

Small court yard with sickly gazonchikom on which at the very beginning of summer dandelions were cheerfully and ingenuously shone, some bushes and the trees which have casually escaped among asphalt and a stone, - this echo, a reflexion turned green, this tiny rag of wildlife has appeared high-grade and its worthy representative.

The life boiled in grassy "jungle", ubiquitous, neunichtozhimaja, pervozdanno perfect, it made the way here again, in an environment of houses, despite ashes from set of the cars which are carried by nearby. It triumphed despite of everything! It was managed under the mysterious and perfect laws - thereby on which we are created also.

In the book «in a court yard» I already described Jungle both a bear cub-bumblebee, and a bug similar to the knight in a copper armour, both the ballerina-zlatoglazku, and the ordinary fly reminding the jet liner. They were the first whom I have seen, having glanced through the camera view-finder in «domestic  jungle». And more a dandelion, certainly a dandelion! A solar flower, a flower-symbol, surprising not only multilateral perfection (one sunflower seed-parashjutik of that costs!), but also large number, unpretentiousness; not only beauty, but also properties of leaves useful to the person, tsvetkov, a root - an example of generosity, tolerance and unselfishness of mother of our nature!

I thought then, that the childhood, «happy has returned, irrevocable it is time», but is not present - the life has returned to me in the mnogotsvetii and mnogozvuchii as if the veil and time slept has slowed down the neostanovimyj run. What do we see usually when we become adults? The habitual apartment, the habitual house, a habitual court yard, street, a place of the job, the become familiar people met day by day. If it will be possible to get out in wood there we rejoice, of course, as the old acquaintance, to shady trees, a grass on which so it is good to lie down, especially if the sun shines and not too flies, gadflies, mosquitoes stick. Well can, we will notice, how sometimes the butterfly will fly by. The ant will creep, will tickle. Mushrooms nasobiraem on zharevo, berries - is simple so to eat or on jam. Colours we like to dig, that in water to put houses (sometimes on road home them and we will throw) …

And here I have suddenly understood, how it is important to be able to look and important to be able to see. That has become familiar, has become boring and seems insignificant, unimportant, uninteresting, actually is not understood by us. After all so we more often see not that there is actually, and only that in a condition and that we wish to see! Depth and beauty of world around depend, it appears, from ourselves. And only primitive self-confidence, poor attitude do sometimes the world colourless and flat. Expensively then it is necessary to pay to the person for the self-confidence!

And here I have opened for myself, that not only each person, but also each smallest small insect are inexhaustible, weaved from miracles and secrets. Yes that there a small insect - a plant, its flower, a sunflower seed, the sheet, even one live cage - an incomprehensible, great, good miracle before which it is necessary to stop in respect and admiration! Yes, of course, it is possible and it is necessary to study it, but not to test respect, not to admire, not to respect it is impossible. Fantastic, hardly comprehended paradox Also turns out: ourselves consist of live cages, our body and a brain - mullions-strong, their milliard congestions, and we study them! We open on the sly secrets …

And I all searched for Apollo. Though at first did not realise, that I search for it. I was occupied that with the spiders admiring with the weaver's skill, persistence, individuality and "ingenuity", the caterpillars accepting plastic poses, butterflies: an admiral, ognennitsa, repejnitsa, mahaon, podaliry, solar gipermnestra …

And each time I tried to find the most original spider, most is masterful the weaved web, the most plastic and bright or shaggiest caterpillar. And the most beautiful butterfly. Though the concept of beauty as I began to understand, rather rather - each live being is beautiful in own way. Unless the refined, graceful bodies of dragonflies, their dry, shining, transparent, issechennye the numerous veins, casting on the sun red, green, orange wings are not perfect, for example? And bugs in streamline armours of different colouring, as if legendary newcomers from other planets? Or snails in "ceramic", helicoid, laconic small houses in the perfection? And masters-weavers spiders - these vosminogie monsters with vosemju eyes and an intricate pattern on a back? And whether can leave indifferent the keen observer of a lace of a spidery web, raduzhno shining if to consider them against the sun? Always involved me and caterpillars of butterflies - that shining, hardly fitted by a thin skin, velvet shaggy, covered with the most gentle fur, that, on the contrary, prickly, moreover with any vyrostami, thorns, loops, feathers … Or take wasps-equestrians with the most thin waist and long pikoj on the paunch end. The same directly any musketeers! It is necessary to admire and convex, fasetochnymi eyes of gadflies or dragonflies, the motley, ritually painted backs of some bugs surprised with physiognomies of grasshoppers and kobylok … And it is final wings of butterflies.

Well about tsvetkah and to speak there is nothing. Big, average, small, they amaze with the perfection of the form and a variety of paints. The flower long since became for us a symbol of beauty of the nature.

Hardly have stunned me frosty patterns on glasses of windows when I have begun to photograph their close up later. So it was possible to make fascinating "travel", not leaving any more from apartment walls. The surprising form of these small crystals of water, their shade depending and from position of the sun, and from the reflexes going from walls at home, and from blueness of the sky, cast fantastic associations. Stunned not only harmony and beauty of patterns, but also that kristalliki, being grouped, made something similar to blades, leaves, even on tropical dense thickets. "Jungle" on glass! Only uninhabited … I had an imagination explaining the form of these patterns: in the winter water as though "recollects" summer - that it was a part of leaves of trees and grasses …        And nevertheless I did not calm down. Constantly for something searched.

Once has paid especial attention to the image of butterfly Apollo in the book-determinant «Insects of the USSR». Has thought of its name. Has read, that it «meets locally and in small amounts» and «flies only to solar weather». And though almost all butterflies - I mean day - fly to solar weather, but written my especial attention here has drawn. Many butterflies have already been removed on slides, and this was not. Yes after all and the name what - Apollo! The god of art and light at one of prosveshchennejshih the antiquity people. The butterfly, undoubtedly, is beautiful: translucent, almost white, with bright black and red stains. But business not only in beauty. After all behind it it is necessary to go, search … for Search! Ardent, brave and, probably, difficult search - here that involved most of all.

3.

 You become the adult - and as time starts to run! That was as though yesterday, actually happens not for long, and even one month ago … will not have time to look back - year has flown by. And we also have not noticed.

How much plans fade, and not having embodied! And the further, the you reconcile to it is easier. You get used.

And the image of the huge ship sparkling by celebratory fires floating by, all visits us less often and less often. Perhaps, the ship also was not?.

And can be, ourselves have allowed it to float by? Have not climbed up in time on slippery abrupt steps, have not overcome the powerful cross-current carrying us from its boards. Excused itself this weakness. Were consoled in what after all many have not reached. And then also have at all counted, what is it there was not a ship, and a phantom. And we supposedly all life can flounder in a small ripple …

Yes is not present! After all possibilities at adults more than at children, much more! And the spectrum of pleasures, means, can be big. And those debts and cares in which we are confused all life, - whether are always defensible, whether are always necessary?

Yes, I have understood, that is possible, it is possible not to miss the ship. The main thing - freshness of sensations, freshness of feelings, ability to see, hear, perceive unbiassedly, dared and is fair, without despondency from last failures, without fear before the possible future. After all at each of us is with what to verify the feelings of thought, remained - should remain! - a treasured reference point. We will recollect, we will recollect «a happy, irrevocable time» - everyone there had the …

Known Russian writer Sergey Timofeevich Aksakov has written the sketch «Collecting of butterflies» less, than one year prior to death. It, short of one more, absolutely short sketch, its last job. And it is obvious, important for it. Dying, leaving the bright and motley world full not only pleasures, but bitterness and cares, elderly person not casually, probably, has recollected happy youthful years, and from them here it:

«Collecting of butterflies was one of those hobbies of my early youth who though not long, but with all siloju passions owned me and has left in my memory deep, fresh till now impression».

So the story from studentskoj lives »begins it«. But how much in this simply written and simply named sketch of true poetry!

«I liked natural history since childhood; the book in Russian (which the name I do not remember), with basten images of animals, birds, the fishes, fallen me into hands in a grammar school, with awe, from a board to a board, has been learnt by me by heart. Having seen, that in the book there is no that at the first sight has been noticed by my children's inquisitive attention, I tried to describe small animals, birdies and small fishes whom to me was resulted to meet more shortly. It were childish attempts of the boy to which each knowledge got by him seemed news, to anybody neizvestnoju, precious and important opening which needs to be written down and informed another. With affection I look now at these two writing-books in the four, from a thick dark blue paper what now and to find it is impossible. On pages of these writing-books by children's handwriting and a syllable are written: zajchik, the squirrel, marsh kulik; kulichek-zuek, the unknown person kulichek, plotichka, a gudgeon and loshok; It is obvious, that the boy-observer has met them the first. Soon I have had a good time set of other, more important interests new and more with which so the young life is rich; has had a good time and has ceased to describe the small animals, birdies and small fishes. But the passionate love to the nature and the live creations occupying the Divine world, did not cool down in my soul, and in fifty years, enriched by experiences of the hunting life of the passionate marksman and the fisherman, I have looked back with love on the childhood - and attempts of the boy were carried out by the six-ten years' old man: Notes about uzheni fishes "and" Notes of the gun hunter of the Orenburg province »» were published «.

S.T.Aksakov has become history of Russian literature as the author of memoirs and "chronicles" of own life, but first of all road to all of us, in my opinion, these its most "hunting" books. And here now, it is possible to add, last year the life, shestidesjatisemiletny the writer recollects what? Not about "adult" gun hunting … He recollects youthful catching of butterflies. And as!

«And really, from all insects occupying the Divine world, from all small creatures creeping, jumping and flying - the butterfly is the better, most graceful. It, really,« a flitting flower », or painted with the wonderful bright paints, shining gold, silver and nacre, or spotted with uncertain colours and patterns, not less perfect and attractive; this lovely, pure creation, to nobody doing the harm, eating juice of colours which is sucked by it the hobotkom, at others short and thick, and at others long and thin, as hair, svivajushchimsja in some ringlets, when there is no need for its use. As joyfully first occurrence of butterflies vesnoju!»

And further the writer describes lectures of the professor of natural history of Charles Fedorovicha Fuksa, the owner of the big meeting of insects, including butterflies. And here at last has lighted up in him, the student of the Kazan university, «strong desire most to collect butterflies», desire which was divided with it by the fellow student on university and friend Panaev.

«At last, in one Sunday or a holiday, early in the morning for what Panaev spent the night at me because I lived much more close to the Arsky field, there were we on the hunting, everyone with two rampetkami (nets. - JU. A) : One strong inserted into a wooden stick, was at everyone in hands, and another, spare, without the handle, hung on snurke through a shoulder. At everyone the cardboard box in which it was possible to put the caught butterflies also hung. Hardly probable sometime, having become already passionate gun hunter, after the long bad weather which has kept me of some days at home, there was I in such delightful delight, with a gun and legavoj a dog, in rich pervoklassnoju game a bog!. And what spring day shone over our young heads! The sun because of a grove left to us towards and streams of flaring light poured over all vicinity. As though the earth burnt under our feet so we have quickly run New Pottery street and the Arsky field … And here at last before us the old, decayed garden, with dark, century avenues, with the shabby fences, the florid fields, a garden which was called then Bolhovsky. The chorus of the bird's voices muffled solovinymi by songs, has amazed at first my hearing, but I have soon forgotten about him … »

And here the first trophies, the first caught beauties which «hands shivering for excitement» are got by them from the "rampetok", admiring and admiring …

«Collecting of butterflies» I have read a sketch in an early youth in the book of the edition of 1909 - thick aksakovsky the volume was one of few escaped in extensive once to the grandmother's library burnt during war in an iron temporary barracks (there was no fire wood, and books heated up a teapot in the winter). And because of this sketch I so valued the big heavy volume in one and a half thousand pages, what even have asked to bring it in hospital when has got there with the next any disease. Many times I with a sinking heart re-read the lines printed with an ancient font with "jatjami", firm signs in the end of words and accurately placed points over "and". Together with the writer travelled on a garden, hunting for butterflies …

Skolkih people, it is obvious as well as me, has captivated the story of the person recollecting in the end of the life those happy days of an early youth!

«Quickly, but there has hotly passed to liking mine passion - differently I cannot name they be to catch and collect butterflies. It reached excesses, to the ridiculous; there can be for some months it has prevented me to listen attentively to lectures … but the need is not present! I do not regret about it. Any disinterested aspiration, pressure of forces sincere, is moral it is useful for the person. For all life there were at me pleasant memoirs of this time, many happy, blissful hours. Catching of butterflies occurred open-air, it was obstanovlena the various phenomena, beauty, nature miracles. Mountains, woods and meadows on which I wandered with rampetkoju; evenings when I watched for twilight butterflies, and nights when on fire I allured butterflies night as though were not noticed by me; all attention, appear, has been directed on precious extraction; But the nature, it is imperceptible for me, it was reflected in my soul by eternal beauty, and such impressions, brightly and harmonously arising subsequently, - are fertile, and the memoirs on them call pleasant feeling from depth of soul human ».

So this sketch, this small confession in the end of a life comes to an end.

Whether yes only Aksakov!. And Fabr? Jean-Anri Fabr, the great scientist who was at first only the rural teacher, but here has taken a great interest in supervision for tiny shestinogimi inhabitants of waste ground under name Garmas (now it is the microreserve well-known for the whole world!), having shown to them truly children's, in the best sense of this word, interest! Also what? Now, in representation of all mankind, Fabr - «the father entomologii», the author of ten volumes of "Entomologichesky memoirs», the lucky person who has lived most interesting, eventful and the opening a life …

So can be, here and it is covered, more correctly, the solution opens to us? In the childhood, in our youth. Not casually in mature, in old age we so come back often the memoirs by those periods of the life when we lived, being given to the enthusiasm without the rest and is disinterested.

Enthusiasm! Here it, a solution, here one of those keys. It is at the people who have saved fidelity to the children's and youthful dreams, at those who was not fenced off from the live, multi-coloured validity and in an adult life and has not left sensations of that old time when there lives the person in expectation of constant opening. 

4. 

Certainly, for me business was not only in the butterfly. Apollo imperceptibly and gradually became a beauty symbol, a symbol perfect in general though I and have not understood it at once. And more I knew, that butterfly Apollo is protected almost all over the world, and in Europe, for example, is close to disappearance.

However, at the very beginning of the hobby I did not think of that, the problem which has hung over mankind is however serious. What there  destruction of the nature, even if in a small city court yard - whole "jungle"! And in the country on any wood clearing the life and at all boils! Bugs, butterflies, spiders, ants, dragonflies, mosquitoes, flies, plant louses, whether bugs … Yes it is not enough! And colours and grasses how much? Plants on the Earth now about a half-million of kinds, spiders - thirty thousand, and insects more than all animals and the plants together taken, - from one and a half kinds to several millions!

But so optimistically I have been adjusted only right at the beginning. Alas, on my eyes during short time appreciable changes came true. Our court yard has been asphalted everything, fantastic clearings in suburban wood were built up with houses, ever less butterflies met on my travel, it is less than spiders, bugs. What to speak about Apollo - I and mahaona near Moscow did not meet never though once drawing of this butterfly decorated itself a cover of the book devoted to struggle against insects, wreckers of agriculture … Yes that there mahaon! Traurnitsu, such extended once traurnitsu, I met all less often and less often. And the bug-deer, a horned fantastic bug whom we caught, is remembered, in the nearest vicinities of pioneer camp, in general has disappeared from woods of an average strip of Russia almost everywhere …

In 1976 in Yerevan the congress devoted to protection of insects has taken place. To think only - protection! And after all still recently we only also heard: insects - our enemies! In the new edition of the Red book of the USSR more than 200 kinds bespozvonochnyh, mainly the insects, one only butterflies - 104 kinds! «Two thirds of butterflies of Europe are close to disappearance, - the professor, the doctor of sciences spoke in the performance And. V.Yablokov in the Central House of writers. - every minute (!) on globe some tens hectares of wood … By the end of century disappear will be destroyed two thirds of all tropical woods of a planet … Daily (!) stop the existence one kind of animals, mainly insects …» the rivers, lakes, even the seas Poison. Air which we breathe, it is already far not so it is pure, as earlier. And ever less oxygen … And mankind all grows in him. Industrialisation, an urbanization accelerate rates. If so will go further … That will be?

Certainly, already that is good, that we have realised. Have sounded the alarm. Fairly, so to say, have faced. Also we believe, of course, that the reason will triumph. Because it in our forces. But it is not enough good wishes, not enough comprehension and alarms. It is necessary also something to do But what?

Session of the Supreme body of the USSR in 1980 when «the Law has been passed About protection and fauna use» in which preservation of all specific variety of animals in a condition of natural freedom is provided became significant. Important that in the Law there is no division of animals on "useful" and "harmful" because in effect each live being is useful, everyone has the right to a life.

And what personally I can make for wildlife management? After all I do not think of the life without constant dialogue with the world which all real on the Earth has generated.

And I have thought: here if it was possible to tell to people not only about big, but also about small beings! Those which I have met thanks to the happy hobby. Here if it was possible to show, how our world as it is worthy respect as it is interesting is perfect and it is useful to observe and study it as it is necessary to protect!

I could act time and again already with display of colour slides and to tell about the fascinating travel in «jungle in a court yard». And each time surprised and reaction of listeners and spectators among which there were people of the most different trades and age - from pupils of initial classes of school to pensioners pleased. Never I will forget the debut. It was on BAMe, in settlement Berkakit. People in special clothes were going to - have come right after the working day, tired, - however it was necessary to see, with what genuine interest they peered into images of colours, butterflies, caterpillars, bugs, spiders as admired with drops of dew sparkling on leaves … it would Seem, it so is far from their daily cares, from a labour life. But when the cartridge with thirty six slides has come to an end and time was required to recharge it, the audience has unanimously agreed to wait. We have made a break, and anybody during a break has not left! Then the same slides I showed at a meeting with workers and employees of combine Jakutuglestroj in well-known nerjungri, the centre of the South Yakut territorial and production complex, - and again the same genuine interest pleasing me. Means, the love to the nature has not died away in people! And sometimes it is enough to clear only this primary feeling, to support, prompt, that did not consider it as something not too "adult", not so serious …

For me butterfly Apollo became a symbol. And not only a symbol of beauty and the travel connected with search. Apollo, this protected representative defenceless, fragile, being under the threat of the nature, became also a symbol of care, respect of the person. Respect for beauty because is not present from these butterflies of practical advantage for agriculture. From them advantage another, and as now it seems to me, much bigger …

5.

At first I was going to to go with expedition to Kirghizia, to lake Issyk Kul vicinities. There mountains so, and Apollos can be. But expedition has not taken place.

Then I have already independently left to caucasus, in area Teberdy. There Apollos definitely are, but when I have arrived, they already flew away.

Then, year through two, from acquaintance Dmitry Viktorovicha Panfilov, the scientist-entomologist and the geographer, I have learnt, that Apollos remained not so far from Moscow - on coast of Oka, with reserve Prioksko-Terrasnogo border. Really? So it is close …

But the pleasure washing was premature. Apollos really flied in village Luzhki vicinities, but only until there were there meadows, porosshie ochitkom, «the hare cabbage» with which caterpillars of this solar butterfly are fed. Meadows adjoined directly territory of reserve and as if were protected. But once whether on someone's negligence, whether by short-sighted calculation which sees only the nearest mercantile benefit, but does not see through it a life, meadows were vykosheny, and the Russia unique as if remained in an average strip Apollo's population irrevocably was lost. What was made by collectors for many years, the state farm (or collective farm) literally for one day has made. Whether modern technics long to cut some hectares!

Certainly, people different. One see or at least try to see the nature world such what it is, - multi-colour, bright, not hostile to the person at all, and only demanding respect for quite fair laws. And they like this world, respect and wish to understand it. Others look at the nature as on object of an antagonism, ozloblenno and nasuplenno. They as if would forget, that that time when the person only won to itself the right to existence among the wild nature and has been compelled to struggle from it, has passed.

Fortunately, becomes those who starts to realise as it is important to save an environment at least partly in its protogenic charm and variety more and more, that first of all it is necessary to try to understand, study and not to cut it that bough on which all of us sit. And for the sake of it, maybe, it is necessary to renounce something, and sometimes even to move.

The problem in learning to distribute products of work and in general it is reasonable to organise this work, that one person did not oppress another, that everyone could realise the human potential to come nearer thus to social harmony …

So, the Dream did not leave me. Dream of Apollo.

Where to me to find it?

I have already told, that Apollo's searches are connected with travel. And consequently, there will be meetings not only with the nature, but also with people. And I guessed, what is it too has with my Dream any imperceptible communication. The beauty draws people, unites, and we Feodor Mihajlovich Dostoevsky and Nikolay Konstantinovich Roerich in general have been assured, what exactly the beauty «will rescue the world», it eventually will be that uniting beginning which will put an end to immemorial human conflicts.

Also I have decided to go well, for example, in … Tajikistan. Southern republic, over ninety which percent of territory make mountains. There be exact solar butterflies should.

The chapter the second

The country of White Butterflies

1.

There is at me an acquaintance, Elena Mihajlovna Antonova, the senior scientific employee of the Zoological museum of the Moscow state university, the entomologist, "mistress" of perfect museum meeting of butterflies, the sincere fan of the business. Considering a travel route, I have for old time's sake addressed to it for council. It has supported idea and besides has given me the address of the person living in Tajikistan, the passionate fan cheshuekrylyh.

- Igor Vladimirovich Maksimov, the person young, on a speciality, apparently, the builder. At it a unique collection, it even some new kinds have opened. Very vigorous and nice person, it would be ideal, if he descended with you, - she has told, giving to me a note with the address, and I have once again thought of a great brotherhood of people which connect the general interest, a common cause.

Though during that moment about Maksimove I more knew nothing.

Whether a little that Elena Mihajlovna has told! She after all and itself saw its all time two. But me it was already nice.

And I have written the letter to Igor Vladimirovichu in whom has told a little about itself, about the Dream and have asked for suggestions. Feature of the moment was that I sent the letter in the end of July. Apollos cease to fly in the end of August. To time remains a little and consequently I asked to answer whenever possible with the telegramme or phone call. Having received my letter, Maxims immediately to me has called. Audibility was not so good, but to disassemble it was possible, as the young vigorous voice persistently convinced me to leave as soon as possible, is better immediately because summer in Tajikistan roast, and years of Apollos can end earlier, than usually.

I have asked, what temperature of air at them now, and have heard:

- Now it is good. Recently there were to forty eight in a shade, and now degrees forty only. Normally.

Forty all?! Normally?! In Moscow that year too there was heat a summer, about thirty, but nevertheless to imagine, that somewhere it is considered forty "normal", it was not so pleasant. Though by experience I also knew, that forty in Central Asia is nevertheless not so terribly, as, for example, thirty five in Moscow.

- And you could not go with me? - I have asked.

- Looking when you will arrive. In the twentieth of August I leave for study to Novosibirsk. If will arrive before, to a smog.

- And Apollos are found in what places? - I have asked just in case because has not been assured, that I will quickly issue business trip, I will get the ticket, and affairs much still was in Moscow.

- On Anzobsky pass it is possible to find, near to Dushanbe, - has answered Maxims. - but hurry up. If there snow goes, will be nothing. And in August snow on pass happens often.

And we have agreed, that, leaving, I will give the telegramme. Maxims veins in hundred with superfluous kilometres from Dushanbe, in the Vahshsky valley where mountains nearby were not, were not also Apollos. Obviously, to it was uneasy to go with me on Anzobsky pass - for this purpose it is necessary to arrive to Dushanbe, and I on such and did not count. But at least a place has learnt. Now the main thing - not to be late.

But … As it is frequent in a life traps us it "but". At first there were urgent private affairs, then it was necessary bystrenko to go to short business trip from the newspaper, then there were some difficulties with the air ticket to Dushanbe - a season … So I took off, alas, only on August, 21st.

2.

Flight over the earth is perfect. The plane, flying up as if breaks through an invisible network-web, and, looking on it is dazzling sparkling ridges of the cumulus clouds amazing with an infinite variety of forms, at last you start to think that you live, maybe, not absolutely how it is necessary, that, powerlessly floundering in vanity, you allow to the ship to departure. That only you will not see, looking at these congestions of water steam: both the mausoleums, and towers, both pagodas, and hummocky polar open spaces, snow-covered spaces, and it is necessary to all to these is the dark blue sky and the sun at which it is impossible to look is shrill.

Below, in breaks between clouds, the earth surface on which and houses you will not make out, especially one person is visible. And it is strange to think, that tiny, invisible from here the biped being bears in the head the Universe and you, one of one and a half hundreds sitting in a winged streamline metal box, something such about itself imagine … even more amazingly when you recollect that absolutely tiny creations, especially in any way distinguishable from the plane - liked my small insects too live the independent life, in any measure, certainly, not representing about human and especially "plane" scale …

East edge of Europe, Urals Mountains, and now under us Asia, Priarale - naked, absolutely dead from above, the burnt red plain lasting on tens, and even hundreds kilometres have flown by. I know, that it is occupied by various live beings and covered by poor vegetation, but from above so it is difficult to present it to itself …

At the airport I have met the person of southern type in a straw hat. It has appeared the teacher of geographical faculty of Dushanbinsky teacher's college. Dododzhon Pulatovich Pulatov at once has liked me naturalness and simplicity. In the plane near to me there was an empty seat, and Dododzhon Pulatovich has changed to me. We have a little bit talked about Tajikistan but when I began to consider clouds, and then and the earth which has opened in ruptures, Dododzhon Pulatovich has tactfully stopped.

When flew up to Dushanbe, Dododzhon Pulatovich has in details told how to find the central hotel, has dictated the address and phone and asked to call by all means if that is required.

Here and more one aspect «Apollo's searches». People always surprisingly feel your valid and peace spirit. Yes that there people! Butterflies, bugs, spiders and those, apparently, understand, if you come to them with world and friendship mission! How much time amazed me as close admit to itself of the butterfly, dragonflies and other sensitive winged beings if you and actually are not going to them to catch but only to photograph, if, beholding their beauty and enjoying it, you do not try to deprive of their life at all.

With such thoughts, and is more correct, with such mood I have descended on a gangway on the earth of solar Tajikistan: the sun really shone, though there was an evening, but over an airfield, over all green beautiful city of Dushanbe has hung muddy a smoke - we have noticed it when the plane just came in the land.

- "Afghan", - has told Dododzhon Pulatovich. - It, probably, not the first day, a donkey. And that after all so will cover, that lanterns it is not visible at night.

"Afghan" is a southern wind from Afghanistan, it lifts a deserted dust and bears it where will take in head, and long this dust then hangs, having gradually a seat and covering all surrounding with a "velvet" layer.

- To you has not carried, - has added my companion. - if want to go to Pamir, it is not enough of that good will see. All will be as through a muslin.

- And long it will hang? - I have asked.

- Even day three-four, it is not less.

Pamir - «a world roof» is perfect, of course, but me disturbed most of all, whether there was a snow on Anzobsky pass …

Dododzhon Pulatovich has kindly said goodbye and took from me the promise to call and come to it necessarily for a supper.

On a way from hotel to Dododzhonu Pulatovichu I have come on mail and have given urgent telegramme Maksimovu with the request to me to call. In the come darkness round lanterns large enough shades rushed about, I have first thought, what is it butterflies brazhniki, and very much was delighted. But has then heard thin peep and has understood: bats.

3.

For other morning till eleven o'clock I sat in a hotel room, waited for a call. And it is vain. Now I understand, that Maxims and could not call so early: first, the telegramme could not reach yet, secondly, at it were after all and the affairs but as we have got used to perceive the world exclusively «from the belltower», being are assured what that is important for us, is necessarily important and for others! How much time I convicted myself of this sin, in this sad error, but each time forgot. And here again …

However that to me to do? Years of Apollos comes to an end, if has not come to an end already, and roads every day. Most to reach Anzobsky pass? After all very much can be, that Maxims has already left to Novosibirsk. And even most likely.

In each new city for me market visiting for he can tell about a local life much is obligatory. On a signboard at an input it has been written "Market" though actually it was final the present southern market with various vegetables and fruit, churchheloj, spices, vjalenymi melons and it is final with set of melons fresh - fragrant lemon, is gentle-pale-yellow, kanareechno-yellow, greenish and covered with grayish mesh touch. Them as I was convinced, adore here all - both children, and adults, and old men. But me had now no time for delicacies. Not behind melons I flied to such distance!

pohodiv on a market, I have gone to board of the Union of writers of Tajikistan. It was necessary to drive some stops by a trolley bus on one of the central streets. The street was very wide, and houses on it settled down on big enough distance from each other, that is peculiar to many southern big cities. The board took places in a new building from glass and concrete.

Responsible secretary Michael Iosifovich Levin has attentively listened to my request, trying, possibly not to show the surprise by the doubtful purpose of my creative business trip, and has kindly given phones of Institute of zoology and parasitology of Academy of sciences.

I have returned to hotel and have started to call. Most known of local entomologists, the author enough the voluminous book «the Higher cheshuekrylye the Vahshsky valley» and other books about butterflies, J.L.ShChetkin has appeared in holiday till September, 3rd. The director of institute too. Its assistant to whom I by phone have tried to explain the arrival purpose, has told, that Apollos are found in Tajikistan only around Khorog, and that meet very seldom … my Mood, of course, has immediately fallen. But the deputy director has given me phone of Institute of physiology and biophysics of plants, whose hospital is located around Anzobsky pass.

Here it, a century of telecommunication! Has not passed also hour, and I have already communicated and with this institute, on a chain left at first on scientific secretary Alla Gennadievnu Koltunovu, have received its basic consent and phone of the employee responsible for a hospital, - Claudias Petrovny Rahmaninoj. There was, that a car which should go today just on a hospital from Dushanbe, has not left yet, and will go tomorrow in 11 mornings. Claudia Petrovna has assured, that the car will fetch me and takes me on a hospital for some days.

It became easier, and that I absolutely was have become sad. After all today on August, 23rd. While was going to, while completed any affairs, seeming so important, time, of course, did not stand on a place. The globe moved on an orbit, and here its position concerning the Sun became critical for Apollos who fly on Anzobsky pass. Whether yes fly? After all the deputy director has told: only around Khorog. Really was mistaken Maxims?

Besides he did not call. I with melancholy sat at phone, glancing in a window on a landscape of the city of Dushanbe filled in with the sun, and recollected, that before going on the market, and then and coming back from it, attentively examined flowers on beds round hotel. Alas, on them there was nothing interesting: cabbage and rezedovye beljanki, repnitsy and one shabby repejnitsa - the butterfly whom I met literally everywhere: and in an average strip, and in mountains of Europe and Asia, and in steppes. Went, as it was found out, the fourth day after an arrival of "Afghan", and all the same air was muddy: the mountains surrounding capital of Tajikistan, are not visible almost. In the first days, speak, was, «as in London»: lanterns hardly appeared through at night, hardly were seen in the afternoon the next houses. The heat was far for thirty, but was transferred easier, than in Moscow.

In the middle of day has come Dododzhon Pulatovich, has brought a republic map. Yesterday's my visit to them has made us, apparently, and absolutely close acquaintances. I recollected his wife Hasijat Kasimovnu, very affable, lovely woman, which, despite the at all yet old age, already the doctor of sciences, the professor, managing Marxism-Leninism chair. It was pleasant, of course, and daughter Gjulsara - the beautiful long-haired Tadzhik, the student of one of the Moscow institutes, arrived on a vacation. Gjulsara advised necessarily to visit on Pamir though this idea was not supported at all in the Union of writers by Michael Iosifovich Levin. He confirmed, what is it very difficult, hard physically and to people unusual even there is a hysterics or euphoria. One woman, for example, at moving through pass should be brought to long - so the height operates on people. It is possible to depart, of course, to Khorog by the plane, but it on neskolku does not accept days, because in mountains rains and even snow are already frequent - it is possible to sit down for a long time.

And in general mountains are better for photographing in the spring, when air pure and weather good. It has confirmed and Pulatov.

Anybody from them, alas, did not give value to that main thing that occupied me - butterfly Apollo. Having listened, they politely nodded, but then immediately passed to that would be interesting to them. Only unless Gjulsara has recollected yesterday, that too noticed sometimes in the summer of beautiful butterflies, but immediately began to advise to me necessarily, necessarily to visit on Pamir to photograph mountains …

To that I with special feeling waited for call Maksimova. One carried away always will understand another carried away … However a call not was. Pulatov, sighing, sympathised with me … And when we left with it number to walk, the long-distance call was distributed.

Yes, it called Maxims. I very much was delighted, but as it was found out a minute later, prematurely. It departs to Novosibirsk on Sunday (and there was a Thursday) and would like to see me at itself in Kalininabade. As to Apollos they for certain already flew away because there was a cold snap in mountains and there, possibly, snow. I again was late.

- And at you under Kalininabadom is what to photograph? - I have asked, hardly hiding grief.

- Something is, - he has told, however without special enthusiasm.

Then I have bragged of a hospital and tomorrow's car, clinging for this hope. But Maxims has begun to dissuade me persistently. Nevertheless I have appeared more persistently, and he eventually has agreed to arrive tomorrow morning to go together with me, and in case of failure (of which he has been absolutely assured) this very day in the evening together to go to it in Kalininabad. On that also have agreed. I have a little become cheerful. All the same there was a chance.

In the evening I went on a beautiful, green city of Dushanbe, enjoying an evening cool, but my heart was already there, on Anzobsky pass, among the pure, high mountains shined now with the moon. Really I again was late?

4.

For other morning, coming back after a breakfast, I in a hotel lobby absolutely still have seen the young, reddish guy with moustaches. It also has appeared Igor Vladimirovichem Maksimovym. I have marvelled its youth, and it as admitted then, mine. It has liked me at first sight and has seemed something similar to George Petrovicha Gritsenko from Tashkent, the employee of the Museum of the nature to whom we more than once happened on expeditions. Besides it was found out, that Igor Maksimov was born also veins in Tashkent almost all life (two years as has moved to Tajikistan), well knows Gritsenko …

The car slightly was late, Igor was nervous, aspiring it is obligatory to return today in Kalininabad. Have left something at about noon. Suburbs Dushanbe have driven, have rushed off on the well-known Varzobsky gorge. The small river along which we went, at first, in the city, is called Dushanbinka, and then - Varzob. I, of course, twirled by a head on the parties, holding the camera on call - not more often after all happen in Varzobsky gorge! - but, fairly to tell, too has not been shaken. Even rocks seemed for some reason artificial, and in many places of gorge the rests of tourist parking and picnics were seen. Water in Varzobe very beautiful, zelenovato-bluish colour, but I had such impression, that it is tinted … On small "UAZ" we rose all above and above on narrow valley Varzoba.

With Igor we spoke almost all time. Choking, he told about the hobby as about the main business of a life. To it twenty seven years, works as the builder, goes to Novosibirsk on courses of masters to raise qualification … Knows almost all experts in butterflies and collectors in Moscow and Leningrad, happened, of course, and in other cities.

- However, that you have opened some new kinds? - I have asked.

- Well, yes that there, - he was modestly looked down.

- And where you in general caught? What butterflies more than others like you?

And here he has started talking to such heat, with such genuine love to a subject - even its bluish light eyes somehow have tenderly closed the eyes partly …

Some settlements have driven, and in all expectation of a national holiday - ramadana was felt.

At last the settlement with beautiful name Ziddy seemed. White small houses on a huge slope of mountain, trees, fences. We have got out of narrow gorge Varzoba, and immediately from different directions to us snow mountains have opened. Air at height is purer, though "Afghan" all the same here again affected. The streamer to Anzobsky pass has begun, and soon we have got on height of 2500 metres to a hospital. To pass, according to Igor, remains still kilometres ten, but Apollos basically could be here again.

The hospital has settled down on an abrupt slope of a huge mountain ridge. During immemorial times wide enough stone step here was formed, now it has been covered by various mountain vegetation, the small rivulet, inflow Varzoba not far raged. This place also has been chosen by employees of institute: have constructed some small small houses, have broken a small skilled plantation. I do not know why, but I was not left here again by sensation of any artificiality. All was too rendered habitable …

To meet us there was an old man the Tadjik, it about something has talked to Igor on-tadzhikski, then we have come into one of small houses.

- Recently snow was, - Igor has told to me. - there is nothing to do here, it is useless.

Yes I and itself have felt for some reason, that here I will not remain.

On a simple board table there was a greens, meat and a wine bottle. The old man something has told in the language, Igor has cheerfully burst out laughing.

Two more men have come, all spoke on-tadzhikski, and all amicably drank from the enameled mugs. And I would not like to walk around vicinities, and I did signs to Igor, but, obviously, it was necessary to sustain obligatory etiquette.

At last, when acquaintance ceremony has been ended, Igor took the net in diameter of centimetres forty, nasazhennyj on short, about metre, the handle, I - a habitual, shabby photo-bag with objectives, films, nasadochnymi rings and liked "Zenith". We left. The sun appeared through through a smoke of "Afghan", over tops of mountains storm clouds curled, the breeze blew, and was cool. Having passed hospital territory, we have walked till the end of "step", polazili on a mountain slope, investigated a rather narrow valley of a rivulet. The sickly, burnt out vegetation, is few colours, unless ubiquitous chicory moreover any rozovenkie late … From butterflies only two-three kinds usual satirov, and here that is valid much so it is flies. All is clear, to wait there is nothing. Suddenly the huge black cloud somehow has suddenly crawled, has dripped a rain, lightnings have begun to sparkle, the thunder has rung out. We have run to a hospital small house.

Yes, all was clear. «If here so on pass is even worse», - Igor has told.

Our "UAZ" has left, but, fortunately, there was one more car, polutorka which just was going to to go to a city. By this time we proputeshestvovali an hour ones and a half also went to a way back at four o'clock p.m. The car was gone to pieces, it was hardly dragged downwards on brakes, boards rumbled, the cabin creaked, below under a cowl something desperately gnashed. And the road was bad. Remains a riddle as this razvaljuha in general here has got.

At last the road became better, we have gone hardly faster and, having gone down in gorge Varzoba, somehow at once have plunged into heat. Certainly, me it was sad, but Igor, on the contrary, has become cheerful, as soon as we have got in polutorku. When it went with me on hospital vicinities, it had such sad kind, that it was difficult to me to get off feeling of fault for the persistence. Now his face expressed optimism.

- At us, of course, not such big mountains, but some are. Apollos will not meet, but, maybe, it will be possible glaukonomu to remove, - he has vigorously told. I, to the shame, did not know, what is it such - glaukonoma, and have asked.

- pontija glaukonoma, from family beljanok, the rare butterfly. In Soviet Union anybody almost did not catch it and especially did not photograph.

Despite the fact that what to me definitively was necessary to reconcile to thought, that again was late - again I will not remove Apollo, and wine this time only washing, and a drawn game another, - I for some reason too have become cheerful. Not only in Apollo business in the end of the ends! Maxims to me liked more and more.

polutorka it was dragged slowly, and Igor already adjusted the driver: we needed to take still my things in hotel, and then to be in time on last bus. Direct flight to Kalininabada should be in half seventh, we most likely were late for it, but we need then to reach at least Kurgan Tyube, and there is close.

The driver-Tadjik has taken us to the hotel. We with Igor run have rushed to be going to, I have somehow abandoned things in a backpack, hotel have paid just in case see you tomorrow, having told to the manager, that if I will not return till twelve nights, it is possible to hand over number. Have caught the car to road service station, and there … the big crowd of Tadjiks in national motley clothes - go on ramadan. What to do? Long negotiations with the dispatcher, and in eight evenings we at last have embused, and without something ten were in Kurgan Tyube. To us has carried: it has appeared, last bus to Kalininabada still will go. Have waited it and in half eleventh there were at Igor houses.

5.

Here and has occurred once again. Went for Apollo, but has not met him is again was late! - also has come to be at all there where went. The dream arrives often with us so: will beckon from apart, and it is necessary to come nearer, as it immediately departs to a romantic illusive distance and again sparkles a far star, again calls …

And frequently guilty in it there are ourselves! However, maybe, it and is good? Unless it is better, if, hardly having lighted up, I immediately have found the Apollo?

So, for the first time in a life I was on a visit at the collector of butterflies who worked as the builder. What have I seen?

Igor Maksimova's apartment settled down on the third floor of the ordinary serial house. In apartment there were two rooms, kitchen and spacious enough loggia similar to a verandah. In effect this dwelling was not allocated with anything especial, short of the several flat glazed boxes which hung on a wall in one of rooms. In boxes the straightened butterflies and bugs have been pinned.

But these small boxes, of course, were not all collection Maksimova, and only insignificant, though and enough its effective part. A such signboard, an emblem, the invitation card.

The collection settled down in desk boxes …

We were met by wife Igor Nina and his brother, the high, thin guy of years of twenty two which all called diminutive Stasik. As to Nina there was it full enough, sluggish, quiet. I looked at it with special liking: after all wives of the people who are taking a great interest in something, - that is another matter. Try to like the one who, maybe, and likes you, but thinks endlessly nevertheless not of you, and, for example, about travel and a photo or about a collection of butterflies, as Igor Maksimov! Here there is no other exit as soon as completely to divide love of your husband and consequently, to know a subject of its love and to be ready or to accompany it on infinite trips and expeditions, or patiently to wait and under no circumstances not to offend its sacred predilection, not to enter the conflict on this soil even if the patience runs low. If you do not wish to accept a game rule which in this case and is a daily life it is better to leave at once.

About, Nina Maksimova understood butterflies excellently! I have understood it on its remarks still before Igor has started to acquaint me with the collection when we, having become hollow in the house during so later time, have sat down to table in a spacious loggia from which through a crack in curtains the star Asian sky was visible in details. In Central Asia it is accepted to sit up late - can be, because day heat at last falls down also thoughts, languid and writhed from air heat, revive and are pulled out on freedom. But still before I became the witness of high erudition of Nina in ecology questions, etologii and systematisation cheshuekrylyh, it was necessary to be surprised to another. After all we with Igor lived in edges different absolutely, in several thousand kilometres from each other, and the climate in which we lived, was different, and an environment a miscellaneous. But I had such sensation, that I talk to the close relative, with the brother. In my opinion, the same was tested approximately also by him. One only, perhaps, divided us: it caught butterflies, so, deprived of their life, ruining thereby to some extent beauty of the nature, I essentially considered what to catch them it is impossible, I photographed them, not ruining, and was proud of that, embodied by me on a film, they still some time continue to enjoy a life. Here only it also called some stiffness in my relation to it, and he felt it, in the rest our opinions on the most different questions surprisingly coincided. Infrequently it was possible to me to meet such adherents even among the close acquaintances!

Even in that collection Maksimova settled down in boxes of an old desk, there was something which are pulling together us. Such if it is possible so to be expressed, "kulibinstvo", the general for some reason line of many our homebrew experts, umeltsev. I after all too ten years by then used in the hunting by the same domestic camera - "Zenith" that called sometimes a smile, and sometimes and quite sincere bewilderment of some my familiar photographers covered from feet to a head with import equipment and wardrobe trunks with every possible sophisticated optics. I have nothing against good equipment and optics, I mind only against acquisition of that and another turned to a subject of self-affirmation and end in itself. The camera, an objective, any adaptation is after all only means, and no more that! Means for the main thing - for search, fixings and transfers to another that you see on happy travel … While "Zenith" satisfied me, as well as our objectives "Jupiter-11", "Jupiter-8", as well as our old diaproektor "Light" which though and not automatic, but never refuses, is simple in circulation, and so modest haven of the richest collection Maksimova - one of the richest if not the richest in Tajikistan, according to Elena Mihajlovny Antonovoj, has called bewilderment even me is easy to repair it … And still.

After tea we have passed at last to collection survey. Also it was necessary to see, with what pleasure, with what true pleasure Igor Maksimov put forward jashchichki, showing to me sapphire, jahont, amethyst, an emerald, pure gold and I do not know what else jewelry poured on wings of butterflies! I, looking at it, perfectly understood, that has put here not only in amazing beauty pinned in jashchichki once flying creations - the main interest in how they have got here, under what circumstances where have been caught and when …

- Militejki, - tenderly said Igor, showing a box with shashechnitsami and touching, stroking a sight each small ryzhevato-spotty butterfly. - and here golubjanochki, my love, - he when has put forward next jashchichek has told and has flashed its contained by turquoise and sapphire. - a charm, the truth?

As was to disagree with it, if golubjanki and my love. These celestial-blue, directly angelic creations which really do not bring harm and as if are created can leave nobody indifferent that we enjoyed their beauty! As was to disagree with it if his face directly shone in admiration …

Then it has shown also sailing vessels - mahaona, podalirija, solar gipermnestru which named simply "gelios" (that in transfer from Latin means "sun"), and the rare aleksanora, several years ago caught Stasikom (it was the very first aleksanor, caught in Central Asia, before considered died out here) … I and white satire, not effective at all, but extremely valuable besides because of the rarity and as if in general unknown to a science (Have seen earlier one of the kinds opened Maksimovym). In one of jashchichkov were carefully stored beljanki pontija glaukonoma, a subject of special pride of the collector about which to monographies of the largest expert in butterflies of Tajikistan of J.L.ShChetkina it is written:

«Deserted-tropical beljanka. It is typical in Northern and East Africa, in the south of Arabian peninsula and on island Madagascar … Lives in loessial and stony deserts of foothills and an average belt of mountains. In our territory authentically it is not found. The Groom-grzhimajlo mentioning her, most likely, was mistaken».

And here it is found, found by it, Igor Maksimovym, the young builder, the fan, find independently and not one, but the whole population in mysterious mountain gorge …

- Tomorrow we there also will go, - Igor has told. TH almost I guarantee, that you will remove it (we already have passed on "you") …

And here at last Apollos. A subject of my Dream. Mountain butterflies who «meet locally and in small amounts» and «fly only to solar weather».

- Here these "apollo" from Anzobsky pass, - it has specified on a little bit small and not so effective. - and here it … - It has put forward one more box, and my heart was hammered, is Apolloniusy. With Tjan-Shanja. Ridge Karzhantau, near to Tashkent …

Such I did not see earlier. Unlike actually Apollos who have been not so effectively painted - red stains at those were only on back wings, - Apolloniusy and dazzled in the bright dress, the nature as if has ceased to restrain and has generously put red on all four wings. They were larger than Apollos from Anzobsky pass, is brighter, more cheerful than them. As if the sun has left the live reflexions on their wings. Have not casually named them so: Apolloniusy!

- To you like? - Igor has noticed my interest. - yes I to you guarantee at least one hundred such the next year if you can get out to Tien Shan. The end of May - the beginning of June, Tashkent. Perhaps, I can go with you and if is not present - I will draw the scheme, I will tell how to go and how to find.

- Really?!

- Yes after all same as easy as shelling pears! Here pontija glaukonoma it is valid a rarity. And Apolloniusov it is a lot of …

6.

Have laid down to sleep we at late night, something after two, therefore have risen not too early when the sun has risen highly enough and burnt rather aloud. Here when I have felt really, that I am in Tajikistan! Before - and in Dushanbe, and even in Varzobsky gorge - such sensation was not: I was represented to myself by easier tourist, that examine local sights as if even on any duty to convince myself, and then and the acquaintances that in such city and in such gorge they definitely were.

Now all was absolutely in another way. Yesterday's evening, and is more correct, half of today's night has given to me much more, than two last days. Speaking with Igor, with Nina (even silent Stasik inserted sometimes the word!) Considering a collection, I at last have like spirit of local places. And when in the late morning we all the same left on street of the city of Kalininabada and under the scorching sun have walked by enough modern, but nevertheless in own way picturesque houses, by counter pedestrians (some of them occasionally ramadana were in bright national clothes), by a flower bed tsinny, blazing pinkishness, gold and purple of the petals on which in October-November of last year there was, according to Igor, a whole invasion of surprisingly beautiful, strange butterflies danaida-hrizipp, - I felt true pleasure. Any more I, and the traveller like gradually that around, opened realities, instead of to the installations was the tourist. And the heat did not oppress me, and pleased - because and should be.

Here that dialogue with such person means, it is possible to tell, the brother on spirit!

We went to mysterious Gorge Glaukonom. So I have christened it, yet not seeing, but already as though familiar with it on Igorevym to descriptions.

- But how your hobby, Igor has begun? - I have asked.

And here that he has told.

In school days once on suburb of Tashkent sixth-grader Igor has seen the fantastic phenomenon: the set enough large white butterflies has bunched. And they did not depart! It has amazed the boy. Casually it had with itself an empty bottle from under milk, and, obeying any strange feeling, it has filled live butterflies a bottle …

The bottle full of butterflies, has been brought home, it has put it somewhere, but has then forgotten about it. However the impression of the live, pottering about white cloudlet which has gone down on the earth, remains. What it were for the butterfly? Meeting habitual cabbage white butterflies, it got accustomed now to them. No, not those … At last has seen somehow bojaryshnits. Here they! Yes, it they made a live cloud - large enough, white, sometimes translucent, with thin, gracefully drawn zhilochkami on wings. Why them was so much then, what for they have gathered? Why did not depart?

So there was an interest. It began to collect butterflies and, attentively getting accustomed to them, has understood, what they in effect different, admired with wings of some. What for they so are beautiful? For whom? In the street, where he lived, it has appeared, too there were collectors of butterflies, he has met them and at last for the first time has seen the book «Determinant of butterflies». Here, it appears, as it is a lot of them most different, and at everyone the name inherent only in it. Family, a sort, a kind … And at a caterpillar of each kind of butterflies the "liked" plants … Now it collected butterflies not so simply successively, and knew, which, was interested in their biology, has learnt to distinguish, what rare and what are not present, and certainly tried to find the most rare. But have especially captivated him in "Determinant" for some reason butterflies from an average strip of Russia - the peacock eye, an admiral, traurnitsa. There was a dream to go behind them. After all he never met them near Tashkent, and what exactly seemed for some reason, they the most beautiful, the most desired. First "Determinant" was small, but here to hands to it has got already fuller. Here he also began to understand, that the most rare butterflies are found just there where he lives, it is necessary to drive off only far away from a city, in mountains …

At last it has come to a nature Museum, has seen there butterflies of the most different (even the tropical!), has met George Petrovichem Gritsenko, his wife Olga Vasilevnoj. They have well met him, have told, where what butterflies can be found, have shown boxes from a share collection which have not been exposed in a museum, have asked about it, Igor, a collection. And when from Moscow there has arrived one of known collectors to it have recommended to visit at Igor Maksimova though was then to Igor hardly fifteen, studied in the eighth class of school …

More and more its collection replenished, interest became more serious. Got already solid scientific books, read, compared that observed itself. Has left school, then technical school, already worked on a speciality - the builder, married, and in parallel veins a fascinating life of the collector, the collector, the researcher. Trips, searches did existence filled, even overflowed because time certainly always did not suffice.

Aleksanora it has found at the very beginning of the hobby - in the sixth class of school! And it is final, absolutely casual. Took with itself in mountains of younger brother Stasika, that has lagged behind, has seen mahaona, sat down on a flower, has covered with a vest. Has then pressed to it grudku and has pressed down a stone to take on a return way. Mahaony at them were not too appreciated, them was much in mountains. Fortunately, ants, zhuzhelitsy, birds were not tempted with trophy Stasika. Igor on a return way did not wish even to take it is «and, mahaon, will think!» - but then all the same took. Houses when has begun to straighten the caught butterflies, wished to reject it: mahaon, moreover and shabby … But has got accustomed better and has gasped: really aleksanor?!

Yes, it was aleksanor, the butterfly of the tropical kind who was considered died out in Central Asia. Has caught it, actually, not Igor, and Stasik, but what difference! However Stasik since then with even bolshej hunting helped the big brother.

Good luck accompanies carried away! The most rare butterflies managed to be caught to Igor Maksimovu, to that and recommended once to the Moscow collector to visit at the eight-grader. Already becoming the adult (rather adult, it is final), in 22 years, Igor has opened that glade, or a slope which was going to to present to me the next year. Set Apolloniusov, and the main thing, the rare aleksanory there flied. Probably, it is unique population of handsome men of sailing vessels in Central Asia. In the trips it now often took the young wife, but, alas, it not too divided its hobby. He has divorced from it and married Nina.

- I very much like the Nina, it simply charm! - he temperamentally spoke to me yesterday. - you Know, how I brazhnika Kindermana have caught? Was, here, in this apartment in the evening. Any large butterfly has flown on light. Whether well it is not enough of them in the evenings flies! And Nina looks and speaks: look, it is any unusual brazhnik, such at you is not present. I look too. Yes is not present, I speak, same the most usual, alekto. And it all the same: no, it not alekto. Me even harm took: give, I think, I will catch to prove. And, whether you understand, it turns out, that egg learns the chicken. Took a net, has waved … My God, same brazhnik Kindermana! The third! The third caught for all history in the Vahshsky valley! You can present to yourself? It is better than me in butterflies understands, represent?

- Nina at me awfully lucky, - continued Igor now. - As from it you will go, something is obligatory standing will catch. And the main thing, is interesting to it, understand? Not simply to me indulges, and most it is interesting! You do not look, that it at me such quiet. It is simple therefore, probably, that I the madman. It though slightly constrains me, it and is good …

Foothills, the brown hills burnt out by the sun, hillocks, rocks have begun. The vegetation almost was not, and nevertheless on slopes cows, ordinary enough burenki, which, as well as the butterfly-repejnitsu where only I did not meet here and there were cautiously grazed.

Also it was felt, all original colour of these places, spirit of the local severe earth calcinated, propechennoj, dried up by the sun was more strongly felt. You wonder, as the vegetation in such conditions manages to exist, after all the overwhelming majority of days in a year slopes of hillocks are opened to the sun, a dry wind, and in autumn nights and happens also a frost in the winter. However plants persistently and amicably cover slopes if on them is though any soil, and take roots even in cracks between stones, in cracks of rocks. And only in one case the vegetation disappears: when people, not reckoning with nature laws, not thinking of the future, it is too frequent on the same place graze the herds. perevypas! The main trouble of deserts, dry steppes and foothills. Natural, natural, so to say "geographical", the desert is not so dead earth, it is rich both flora and fauna. The present, dead desert is a result of rash human activity.

What well-being, what perfection the nature on our planet has reached! - again also it was again thought to me. The life gets everywhere, it not only is well - it constantly develops, the quantity of forms not only does not decrease, and, on the contrary, grows. And the mankind debt certainly to promote life preservation in its any displays, our debt to search not for the chasms dividing people and natural communities, and the threads uniting us on perfect and as it has appeared, not too to a major planet … My reflexions were interrupted with Igor.

- Well here, and then and white satire I have caught - too with Nina, and only nine kinds of butterflies managed to be added in book SHCHetkina, - it continued in the meantime while we vigorously walked on the heat which is smoothly coming nearer to forty (and on the sun and that more). - But much, of course, still is not known. Here the more you learn, the less, it appears, you know. The pun is clear? Here an example with golubjanochkami small, frejerija trohuljus - we, maybe, will meet them today. I read in the monography: « … the biology is not studied ». Aha, I think, means, people to you could not … Is found out, that did not meet neither caterpillars of this butterfly, nor dolls. But they should be! How to find? Well it was directly searched on those plants over which they usually fly. No! And after all interestingly to learn. Whether it is not enough that here can open … Time they over these plants fly, means … And here has pulled out some pieces with a root, and then there was on a sheet of paper each leaf, each back to touch. Also has found! Caterpillars, it appears, in the afternoon on roots hide from a heat. And creep out at night. In the morning - again under the earth. Therefore them also did not meet! Like, you think, nonsense such opening. And after all it how to think. The main thing that you know now: some caterpillars so can arrive. Basically! And present, for example, that in any way will not find out caterpillars of any malicious wreckers and do not know, how with them to struggle. Here and the help! Or, on the contrary, any useful to dissolve it is necessary … When at the nature something new you will peep, it can is unexpected be useful very much. Though first, of course, you will not think, as well as for what.

I listened Igor with the great pleasure. It is surprising, as the same laws are shown in any hobby of the person. Interest - knowledge - again interest - again knowledge. Both in breadth, and deep into, and endlessly. Also your life is filled with happiness. Happiness of the importance, confidence of the forces, periodic opening, happiness of movement and development! And anything, probably, so does not unite people, how it is the general interest, the general thirst of knowledge.

Certainly, to fans to travel in the African savanna or in jungle of the South America our campaign to Gorge Glaukonom would seem not worthy absolutely not. After all, having left the city of Kalininabad, we at all did not use any type of transport. Also there were we only hour two, and around at all did not begin neither boundless wild prairies, nor exotic savanna, dense thickets at least any semitropical tugaev. At first we went the river Vakhsh coast, at all the river which have just gone down from mountains that is why cold and fast (Vakhsh in re-water from the Tadjik means "violent"), - we walked on water basin coast! That is has here again overtaken us artificiality of a landscape, «the anthropogenous factor». The narrow-gauge railway … Then Not far lasted there were hillocks, they became all above, and at last here it, Gorge.

- Look, - Igor has told. Is here. You see fly? It they. Glaukonomy.

However, glaukonomu all of us have met one, not reaching yet to Gorge. And first it has seemed to me ordinary beljankoj, well if not the cabbage white butterfly, repnitsej. But on closer examination I was convinced, that in own way it is very beautiful: with ispoda its white wings are ornamented by lemon veins and they cast volshebno-illusive pinkishness, and from the top party snow-white - so: snezhno, chastely! - also are covered by accurate black stains. But not in it business. That, the first, is not considered. Because main is a Gorge. Gorge Glaukonom. Here also there was a miracle.

7.

I remember myself late. That is sensations of a life which appear at the human being when it the helpless baby comes to the world, undoubtedly, were and at me, but, probably, them was so much and in not strong brain there was such confusion, that something more or less certain beginning to be printed in my memory only when I have lived on this planet years six.

And the majority of such memoirs is connected with wood, a grass, florets and small insects. Even on the trodden site of a children's garden I found corners which seemed to me, obviously, protogenic. After all and actually: the raspberry bush, for example, or spirei, a poplar tree, a site corner where the grass was saved, thickets balzaminov, burdocks, mother-and-stepmother, yes eventually simply nettles or lebedy - whether is a slice of the live world, mysterious threads connected with each of us?

It is said that at schools of wise men in the countries of the East of pupils learnt first of all to attentiveness, ability to observe and see. Also there was such, for example, an examination. The teacher spread a subject before the pupil and left at two o'clock so that for this time the pupil as follows has familiarised with the given subject, and has then told to the teacher what he has seen. Then the teacher came, asked, again left, leaving the pupil all with the same subject, and again came, that the pupil has told about him something new. Both so some times. And if attentiveness and the imagination at the pupil did not suffice, was considered, that it is not ready to the further doctrine.

And in it was huge sense. The material world phenomena are so difficult and actually so are still a little learnt by us, that superficiality and a categoriality in the estimations, peculiar to the majority of us, immediately create prevratnuju a picture of the world and deprive of possibility to learn it. That is why self-confidence, arrogance long since were considered as the greatest sin. In my opinion, and now it is one of the most serious enemies of the person. If not the most serious.

And all - is literally all! - great opening of mankind are made by attentive people and basically then when people refused habitual templates and perceived the world unbiassedly.

Perhaps, in that to me also has carried, that at first the father and mother, and then the grandmother did not smother in me here this children's keenness, did not impose the developed representations. Then anybody from them did not become, but I already, probably, have got stronger in it is the most important thing! - and even if someone tried to impose to me something violently, I agreed only just for show, remaining correct actually only to personal representations, only internal sensation of justice. And the nature supported me in it always. Children's bent for to the live is not casual! Not strong my consciousness as if instinctively aspired to find support at our mother, that, that the person has generated and has fostered. Certainly, any philosophy at me in a kindergarten was not, and could not be. Anything about properties of insects, plants, about fitontsidah and biofields I then did not know. However, if someone offended me, I if could, ran in wood, in the field - to trees, to a grass. And if could not, then to a tree, to a bush, to colours - to live! And if, as well as to any normal child, me it was terrible in dense dark wood I waited for a dirty trick not from animals and plants, and from people or from any "leshih" or "spirits", which as I understand now, too after all generation not the nature, and person. And even not so much its healthy nature, and fear, ignorance, that is that, that in effect also is a self-confidence and arrogance consequence.

Certainly, in the nature it is a lot of and that with hostility human life. The illnesses called by bacteria or viruses, carriers of these bacteria, every possible krovososy, poisonous insects and other animals, and also plants. Predators, at last. And still it only the "production costs", that "tribute" which the person should pay for the existence in uniform ensemble and for the origin. For evolution. As a whole to say that the nature is hostile to the person, in my opinion, simply ridiculously. Self-confidence and arrogance - too as consequences of evolutionary processes are hostile to the person. Ignorance is hostile to the person. And there is especially nothing to speak about stagnancy, this active, aggressive ignorance which not only takes away a life from those who it, ignorance, professes, but also tries to deprive of sight, hearing, reason, and consequently, and lives of all other, normal people.

(By the way, poisons of plants and animals - natural poisons. - as is known, in the majority not only are not harmful to the person, and, on the contrary, are useful and are used by us as medicines - all question in a measure and degree of their application. And in it too the good help to the person reasonable: not to be afraid it is necessary, and the nobility to study! Here only how to find to us a medicine for stagnancy?.)

And as, of course, of much of you, readers, since the childhood it was sick to me to see, if someone not clearly what for deprived of someone a life: broke a young tree, uprooted a blossoming bush, killed the butterfly or a grasshopper. But nevertheless it did not go to any comparison with if someone on my eyes pressed, humiliated, trampled down the person. Let it is not literally, not physically, let even only "morally" when actions concerned not a body, and to spirit, to advantage of the human being. It was the most terrible, to struggle with it to the child it was impossible, but the most unpleasant memoirs of my childhood are connected with it. And it was twice terrible because similar I did not see in the nature. There too struggle, and struggle ruthless, deadly, but there nevertheless it another is, of course, conducted.

In old-old times the first people on the Earth did not have a necessity to make thrifty use of the nature surrounding them. Their possibilities in infringement of natural balance in planet scales were insignificant. The uniform natural mechanism fine samoregulirovalsja because among its parts was not such what could subordinate to itself all the others and would be to destroy in a condition all mechanism. And so was until evolution has not created the modern person and mullions-strong mankind which possesses now really fantastic possibilities in ubienii similar and environment destruction, that is other wildlife in scales of all planet.

As it is important - vital! - presently comprehension of unity of all natural mechanism! It, this comprehension, also is in effect a basis of modern morals, and the morals arise in the person since the childhood. We, adults, sow those seeds which then will give shoots … And here, on the Gorge Glaukonom threshold where my new friend Igor has resulted me in young souls, I have once again understood, what happiness was that not only cruelty and stagnancy there was I in the childhood. On the contrary. It is More, was such people who have helped me to see already then much more, to feel our blood interrelation both with people, and with «smaller our brothers», and with each flower, a blade … As I is grateful to them!

The sensation such and very strong has captured me as if in Gorge atmosphere there was a concentration of this true at once, aroma of old my childhood.

It seemed, what is it the corner of the untouched earth - yes it and was, obviously, untouched whether because of malosti the and unfitness for needs of a national economy, whether by a lucky chance.

Still when we only approached to it and Igor has told: «Look, it here», I have seen flying glaukonom, the rare butterflies whom anybody to Igor here did not see and anyway did not catch. And I somehow have seen at once Gorge in aggregate, as the independent world, without intervention of any forces, that is why original, living in myself, having shape, a life and spirit. It was harmonious ensemble. Coped. Nobody upset.

Therefore, obviously, also lived still here glaukonomy. Last boundary.

The place this, closed from three parties steep rocks, nevertheless was spacious enough. And at an input the huge boulder laid. As the guard. It did not close all gorge. It simply laid at its beginning.

And as soon as we have stepped into reserved territory, I have seen the big network of a spider which are partitioning off a deep crack, and the spider too has seemed to me the guard.

What from this, what the spider was small and the guard from it, of course, not terrible? I and it have apprehended as a symbol. A pier, you, of course, can destroy all and us too. But you will lose more. Without us you cannot. Because we are your part, to you will seem only, that you are live. But it not a life. Visibility. We can exist only together.

And you feel it …

8.

The miracle also consisted in that condition in what I have suddenly appeared in this Gorge.

Certainly, I have photographed also Gorge, and Igor in Gorge - after all it has opened it, it has resulted me here so, he too understood spirit and an essence, not casually I felt his brother on spirit!

Tirelessly I photographed and glaukonom, and other butterflies though was them not so much as I would like. Their small number spoke that in the end of August almost all vegetation has burnt out for a long time. And in the spring, according to Igor, here there was a heavenly spot, a blossoming garden, and butterflies, of course, much more. Ah, as it wanted to me to get here in the spring!

But in the spring but Its deserted-tropical Majesty does not fly pontija glaukonoma.

Still here there were satires of several kinds: satires enervata (dark brown, almost black, with blue-green outflow and the bright white stains forming on forward wings similarity of a flower or a star); its reddish form under the "analogue" name, much more rare; satires disdora and davendra, small, reminding ours sennits, but are brighter, more effective than them; very rare and valuable to collectors of satires stulta - all any brown-brown, fur, soft, with a light border along the edges of wings and with speckled, "rjabchikovym", ispodom - an example of patronising colouring because to make out it on the brown earth when it sits with the combined wings, it is impossible …

And, as well as promised Igor, we have met those golubjanok frejerija trohuljus, the smallest representatives of numerous family golubjanok and, perhaps, the smallest day butterflies in our country. They flied as if dry cheshujki, lifted by a wind from the earth, but have on closer examination appeared charming: bluish and violet-grey, juvelirno finished, with five dark points on the bright yellow strip going on edge of back wings. But even more original was ispod wings - here five dark points turned to five jewels, they sparkled and were poured by silver and turquoise, and other surface of wings - noble grey-steel colour and too all is spotted by dark points. That is it was extremely skilful product of the nature, and necessarily there was a question: why they are created by such tiny? After all in wingspan these charming creations hardly reached one centimetre …

And as always, on the kind relation live reciprocated also trust: I managed to remove graceful samochku-frejeriju while it diligently postponed jaichki for leaves of that plant which roots will serve as a refuge to its creeping children in day heat. To make it, it was necessary to screw two complete sets nasadochnyh rings and, having writhed in three deaths to approach the objective end almost closely to engaged in by the "sacred" business samochke, but it has easy transferred intervention to its private life, for what I, of course, remained to it is rather grateful.

Igor was delighted with my good luck: he has told, that pictures if those turn out, become direct acknowledgement of its opening. Time the butterfly postpones jaichki for leaves of this plant, means, caterpillars will eat its leaves. Namely on its roots he also has found out them once …

Alas, as to satirov they in any way did not allow to come nearer to themselves on sufficient distance, conducted also itself nervously, mistrustfully, in my opinion, even partly it is hysterical: headlong darted off for no reason at all, and having a seat, and did not open wings. What was to do? It was necessary to ask to catch Igor a couple - that it with obvious pleasure and with some even grace has made. Skill was felt! Its pleasure spoke, perhaps, and what after all I it have asked though time and again already stated the disapproval concerning catching basically. Probably, it was pleasant to it to be convinced of that, as in me there are inclinations of the collector-blighter.

And further it was necessary to press down slightly grudki to hysterical creations, that though so to force them to sit easy. But this barbarous method, of course, has not brought success: though I also have spent very many shots, however anything standing from such pictures it has not turned out. And it is correct.

Here only it is a pity nevertheless, that it was not possible to me to adjust with satires of mutually benevolent contact. Probably, all of them were on the verge of an overheat and a sunstroke, as well as we with Igor because to photograph to me it was necessary on the sun, writhing and creeping by the ground moreover having removed a protective white cap (it frightens nervous creations). And hour through two after the beginning of our travel on Gorge all around began to seem in any strange haze, and spiritual thirst has entirely given way to the corporal. And thirsted for a body of much: both rest, and a shade, and a cool, and, of course, waters.

Igor Maksimova's look eloquently testified to that, as here it was easy to us to find full mutual understanding, only I as the visitor should take the first step … And I have made it.

- Perhaps, we will go? - I have cautiously told and have instantly received the positive response.

We have left Gorge and have gone to Vakhsh. Its cold waters have soon resulted us in quite normal and even a state of bliss.

- How much degrees today how you consider? - I have asked Igor.

- In a shade it is normal, about forty. But on the sun it is more …

And, as we were on the bank of the river with pleasant, slightly obzhigajushche-cold water, in a shade of the huge boulder which has rolled down here it is not known when, but very opportunely, my reaction to its words was quite quiet. I even have been full of feeling of pride that my brain, possibly, has sustained this scorching heat because the Gorge Glaukonom and remains in my representation by a fantastic place, a symbol of natural harmony and beauty. Even is not present, it was not Gorge. It was the Country of the Escaped White Butterflies. A dream place. A stronghold of a virgin life …

For other day we ran Igor on courses - have planted aboard the plane at the airport of Kurgan Tyube, and in day we with Stasikom again went to Gorge Glaukonom, have visited the Country of White Butterflies.

And again to me carried - I have photographed glaukonom in steam, during a marriage meeting. The male and a female were fine looked: easy posed on dry leaves any kserofita against the light blue bottomless sky of Central Asia. For this purpose, the truth, me was necessary to be spread thoroughly directly on the ground which has dried up to cement hardness covered with sharp stones and the prickly rests of any plants. But I do not regret. Igor, having learnt subsequently about it, has told, that my picture becomes unbiased fact acknowledgement: beljanki pontija glaukonoma not only are found at us, in the Vahshsky valley, but also it is perfect itself there feel.

So, next my expedition - to Tajikistan - was unsuccessful if to regard it from the point of view of Dream of Apollo. However I did not consider its unsuccessful in general.

Perhaps, even on the contrary …

9.

Somehow to me old Russian magazine of the edition of 1899 has casually come into the hands. The first heading which has immediately interested, was «Ryoskin and beauty religion». The author of article - Robert Sizerann, a translation from French.

In article it was a question of the English theorist of art, the art critic and the publicist living in second half XIX centuries, - John Ryoskine. I was interested by thoughts on the wildlife management, stated hundred years ago, though and a little fondly sounding today. Some statements to me are to be resulted here.

«Whatever good opinion we kept concerning the modern life, whatever high representation we have made about its progress and gains, anyway there is, at least, one area in which this progress is not easy for noticing and in which our century, at least, has not increased a world heritage of mankind; this area - beauty … Faster, than before, railways transfer us to favourite landscapes of the earth, but earlier, than to transfer us there, the embankments and the tunnels they disfigure these landscapes … the Hotels scattered in set among districts, amazing before the wild inaccessibility, allow us to settle down with comfort among rocks and woods; but only, to construct them, it was necessary to blow up rocks and to cut down woods …

At the same o'clock the happiness of people and beauty of things disappears, the same whirlwind carries away songs of birds and a song of people, and whether the identical reason should attribute disappearance of the social world and aesthetic pleasures? »

So Robert Sizerann wrote, and I read and was amazed, how is modern these lines sound!

«Scientists and economists, having taken away from weights … beauty, promised to give them happiness. Whether they have given them it?. We hear promises to decuple speed of cars carrying us, a grief which we take away with ourselves, will depart then even faster. There is no time it was spoken:« the love Grief is not started up in travel, the love grief does not go by the ship ». What sorrows do not follow now everywhere the person? And than all obstacles of travel are more eliminated, especially is given smothering in the power of internal torments. Yes, it is fast all settlements of globe will be connected by a thin and strong telephone wire, but unless news transferred on them become thereof better? Yes, on our roads the headless crews collecting now crowds in streets will soon slide: unless they will present more beautiful show for passers and unless they will open more beautiful kinds sitting inside?.»

Ryoskin, in the products acting with romantic criticism of a capitalist civilisation, with indignation writes about nature pollution, tries to find a way out of the created position, though and utopicheski. « There, where pure waves, pure and sparkling as a sheaf of beams, ran into the Karshaltonsky pond, making the way to the most coastal gravel a light stream under the plumose arch of the lungs, fluctuating grasses, rejecting on them deep reflexions of light, as kolchedan in the fine-moulded agate, covered here and there white stars of buttercups, in these first murmuring streams, contemptible human beings throw dust from streets and from houses, a heap to rubbish and a dirt, zarzhavlennye metal pieces, disgusting rags, everything, that it laziness to take away or bury, they pour out in a stream which dissolves all and carries away this poison far … Half-dozen people within one working day could clear these ponds, clean coast and fill with a freshening fragrance air blowing over them and again to make waters same sparkling and salutary … But this working day never will come, and never the pleasure will visit hearts of people in edge of these English sources … »

Then Ryoskin has come into the next village and, passing on the main street, wondered, whether as the reason of such criminal negligence poverty serves in the relation to the nature. But there is no … It has found, on the contrary, luxury signs; magnificent exhibitions at windows, the elegant coffee houses, new shops; on persons there was no print of the big happiness and health, but much more cares of appearance, of the ostentatious party and everywhere magnificent, but useless pig-iron lattices. «As it happens, - asks Ryoskin, - that last job has been made instead of that, the first? Why force and a life of the English worker istrachena on profaning the earth instead of restoring it, on making a metal thing, absolutely useless in this district which cannot neither be drunk nor to inhale instead of healthy air and pure water?»

«On it economists if only they have condescended to the answer, - the author of article continues, - would tell, that though dreamers and condemn a modern capitalist system, all the same it is better than others, existing till now».

But Reskin certainly disagrees with delights of this system.

«Alarms, exhaustion, travel, day and night - the capitalist all is ready to transfer struggle, job for the sake of one purpose - money … That it will do with this money, he does not think of it or thinks so, by the way: its passion get money … It cannot to read: it has, he is afraid to pass a case to earn money; it cannot go in the spring to admire dismissed colours: as though not to pass other case to earn money. Then, then, when it becomes absolutely rich and … absolutely old when it will ruin ten competitors and will break ten strikes then he with the money will demand from the nature all its flowers, at art - all its harmony, all high pleasures of thought - if only it in a condition will take pleasure in all it … But it will not reach this second stage: to provide to itself luxury of health, it ruins the health to prepare for itself(himself) intellectual pleasures, it ruins the mind; Actually that this millionaire witty names «to earn to itself a life», means, otherwise, slowly, tsenoju enormous efforts to earn to itself an old age and death … »

«And meanwhile, - continues Ryoskin, - this life, this health, these aesthetic pleasures which it has sacrificed to aspiration to enrichment, unless they in itself do not make riches? And if money a thing necessary, unless it is less necessary to have healthy hands to dispose of them, and unless, having lost a life, it is possible to take pleasure in pleasures of a life?. Having thought it is a little, we should agree, that the first riches - health. And whether give health money and monetary pleasures? For health pure water is necessary. The factory gives money, whether but it poisons all streams around and the manufacturer can get good water … These riches? The riches allow our hands to remain in idleness and to our body to avoid any muscular job. Modern progress consists in it. Let so. But in some years our body tired with brain activity, weakens, and doctors for the sake of hygiene order us that job from which engineers for the sake of progress have solemnly released us. Unless this weakness makes riches? But also, to what to us health if there are no more woods where it is possible to watch flight of birds, and meadows where can admire colours? »

The same it is possible to tell and concerning works of art. « The greatest error of our time to think, - the author of article, - that the person absorbed by acquisition of money continues, going between two gamble to listen by the way to an opera, hears something … It hears of nothing. The greatest error to think, that the collector understands beauty of works of art, when he needs to stretch a hand to receive them … It them does not see. The first hears only a ring of the gold poured in the international markets, - or groans of the families ruined by happy exchange gamble. The second sees in the frames on an azure background of pictures - colours uplochennyh for them of bank notes and an eye for it persistently search in a cloth corner, as on the check, an inscription making its price. Actually to possess works of art and to test pleasures delivered by them, it is not necessary to pay for them - it is necessary to understand them. It is not necessary to open it the purse, it is necessary to open it the soul, and for this purpose it is necessary to have soul. These pleasures making true riches, are given not by gold, and love.

At last, unless acquisition of money generates correct friendship, incorruptible liking, warm hand shakes, sincere attachments, - that is calm of soul and heart, belief in a life painting a life in the brightest colours?. Calmness, trust, everything, what decorates a life, unless it does not make riches along with a daily bread? «It is probable, economists have vague idea that there are other sort riches, except the metal found in Australia, not for nothing they speak about« useful things »and declare, that« time - money ». But also mind too money; health too money; knowledge too money. And your health, your mind, your knowledge can be turned into gold, but gold cannot be, in turn, is turned into mind and in health».

«Actually, followed learn, that true veins and riches veins - red, instead of gold colour, that they are in bodies, instead of in rocks, and that final purpose of riches consists in manufacture probably bolshego quantities of human beings with a mighty breast, with sharp sight, with joyful heart; that most profitable of all kinds of the national industry - manufacturing of souls of high quality … Is not present other riches, except a life, - concludes Ryoskin, - lives, meaning all force of love, pleasure and a worship».

Significant words though they are written hundred years ago …

10.

Not so long ago I could address once again to the big audience with display of slides and the story about nature miracles, about the surprising world of small beings which surrounds us. Performance has taken place in the big new building of the House of culture in one of large settlements of the Moscow area. I with pleasure observed again live reaction and interest of spectators. Also it was once again convinced, that there was and in adult people a children's, good desire of opening, bent for to travel, dream of harmony in mutual relations with each other and with the nature world! In a hall was about seven hundred persons, mainly inhabitants of settlement, but reaction was unanimous and very benevolent. People chuckled at some strangenesses in behaviour of ants so reminding our, human weaknesses, over «cunning and resource» the males-spiders, doing not wish to be the eaten gluttonous females that is why inventing "witty" receptions for derivation of their attention from the person, were surprised to numerous and diverse abilities shestinogih, admired with perfection and beauty of natural creations. «To make the most interesting, fascinating travel, it is not so obligatory to go in the overseas countries, - I spoke, trying to convince an audience by means of slides. - you can travel, not leaving at all from a court yard - if, of course, there there is any more or less dense vegetation any more. And especially interestingly such travel to a jungle of a wood glade - in several minutes of walking from your house …» the Burst of applause in the end of performance again and again convinced me all of the same …

And after performance I went to electric train station, and my way laid through the bridge. The bridge was over small river - small, twisting, typically flat rivulet, precisely such what necessarily lives in memory almost each inhabitant of Russia, in that treasured corner of consciousness where the most touching memoirs of the childhood are stored. Remember? A fog, a dawn, a fishing tackle, a worm, peskarik … the Bright sun, dryzgotnja and shouts in water, bare feet. With what not a comparable smell of river water, a sedge … the Wind, a grass rustle, whisper of foliage of the trees inclined over a small creek … Here only start to recollect! And here I went through the bridge happy with recent performance, pacified by benevolent reaction of an audience. And from bridge height has peered into small river.

The thick pipe lasting whence from coast, let out a yellow-white swill, and on other side of the bridge, hardly more low, this swill, blurring, did small river is deathly-white, soap, poisoned. But also above the bridge, before a pipe, the small river too was almost already dead, only here and there separate bunches of a sedge shy turned green, but round them there was a continuous swill and a dirt, this time unnaturally black, coal-black. Any banks, sticks, rags …

The first thought was: for what?! For what have killed small river? Well we will admit, when waste ground, porosshy a tall weeds, transform into a dump is still somehow it is possible to understand (but not to justify!). Certain level of culture is necessary all the same to realise: the waste ground too can serve people, it is impossible to arrange a dump anywhere, to drive the superfluous kilometre-other is better not to take away from people a rag of the nature with grasses, colours, and butterflies. But small river what for? Unless does not know everyone - everyone! - that the small river is long since a symbol of a life for the person, a source of pure water, a nature oasis, a subject of an admiring, worship even … the Director or the chief engineer of that enterprise which pollutes it, they, what, not live people? What they to the children and grandsons will leave? Time-beaten bricks, shavings and a dirt?

The pipe lasted from that enterprise which, obviously, and has constructed the culture House where I just acted … I and thought I can not admit, that such disgrace was lawful and something justified. For certain this any infringement, and serious.

And here of what I have thought then. After all seven hundred persons just with such attention, goodwill, enthusiasm listened to my performance, looked at the «smaller brothers», admired perfection of a blade, a flower, sheet. «To travel it is possible, not leaving at all from the court yard!» - I convinced them, and they understood me. And from this mutual understanding I rejoiced as thought in the naivety: their life becomes a little better. And here this small river … Building of the House of culture for certain costed considerable money. And after all would be enough and the small sum to put small river in order, to recover it. That not the despondency and poison were born by it to people, and pleasure and health. Unless it is not important? Yes, now to recover small river uneasy … But it is possible after all and enthusiasm of people to use! Only to remind them - to remind! - that small river after all too … live!

And here, perhaps, I for the first time have really reflected over concept which has already started to enter into our life though and it is not absolutely confident while.

Microreserve! A corner of the inviolable, preserved, live, wild, protogenic nature. Not huge, on hundreds and thousand the hectares, demanding staff, the financial grant of the state, located always somewhere away from places of our constant life and any inaccessible … Is not present, small, absolutely nearby, nearby from a place of habitation, job, the Life islet, its stronghold.

Unless not this idea was in the air very much for a long time, and anyway in days of Fabra! After all Garmas - thrown (but not cluttered up, not transformed into a dump, not filled up with the stinking garbage, not filled in with black oil and acid!) waste ground … Unless it not an example, not model?

It is not known, would take place ZH. Fabr as the largest scientist, as «the father entomologii» if there was no this naturally formed microreserve not far from its house!

And our Russian writer S.T.Aksakov unless would present to us the sketch «Collecting of butterflies» if was not on suburb of old Kazan of ravines, the waste grounds, the thrown Bolhovsky garden?

And certainly that stream, «running into the Karshaltonsky pond» about which with such pain wrote J. Ryoskin hundred years ago, - after all it too could be saved, if …

Yes! Microreserve. Saving for the nature (and for us!) idea. And easily realizable as it seemed to me.

At each of us unless is not present for memories of such "paradise" places where unforgettable meetings with exciting have taken place once, magic, protogenic? Whether and many in a condition again to visit them now? And business not only in time lack, but also that they, alas, do not exist any more. There the treasured ravine is transformed into a dump; here the old park either is cut down and built up, or resulted in such "order" from which has lost charm mysterious pervozdannosti; somewhere the orchard which has become "unnecessary" and prevented someone is shown under a root; here the picturesque slice of a virgin meadow giving a shelter to set of mysterious and perfect creations, awaking the imagination, satisfying thirst perfect, promoting display of inquisitiveness at the people who only still are starting out a life is opened, and now … And now from it collect so much agricultural products, how much - and even it is ready, much more! - It is lost because of mismanagement just because those who collects, do not have respect for the nature, for the earth. Therefore is not present, what not in number of work all secret, and as it. Quality does not happen without respect …

Microreserve! Saving idea for the nature. Saving it and bringing up us … After all many, many of perfect places of our childhood could be saved! Just as earlier to us, they could and give now pleasure to those who has come to the world after us - to our younger brothers and sisters, children, grandsons … the Bosk, the ravine, a field, a wood glade, a pond, a spring, small river, a stream, a bog, small waste ground - after all it and is potential microreserves! We build parks in cities, we suit zoos, we plant trees and shrubs in court yard and balconies, we and to ourselves at times transfer a microscopic particle of wildlife to a room - a cage with a bird, an aquarium, a pot with a plant … After all same nostalgia on the live, colourful, bright, mysterious by miracle mysterious and perfect life to the nature of the Earth! To the nature, a part and which pupils are we …

Parks and zoos - in that kind in what they, as a rule, exist now, - carry a shade of artificiality and give rather deformed representation about our foremother, a protogenic environment., For example, the majority of zoos calls me only feeling of bitterness and grief. Indoor plants, an aquarium, birds and other small animals brought in the house, is too only the particle which has been torn off from whole and indivisible. As to be? Where to meet to us the wonderful world which has generated us, protogenic and perfect?

In microreserve! There. Where a slice of the saved, rescued nature … the Big national parks are necessary. Large animals, the big communities of plants cannot exist on the small, limited spaces. It are necessary, essential national parks where animals and plants not only are protected, as in reserves are necessary, but also are accessible to those who likes and respects the nature.

But not less, and can be, even microreserves - small, accompanying us in a daily life sites, slices, rags protected and though to any degree of the untouched protogenic nature are more necessary now everywhere! A nature corner not at home, in stone walls, in an unnatural climate of human habitation, and in the neighbourhood, nearby, nearby, in full conformity not with ours, and with its own laws, let limited, constrained by our close existence, however in the greatest possible approach to primary natural harmony …

Here after all there is and more one aspect, very important.

How much we know examples when art - the literature, painting, music - inspired people on work, on feats, for a reasonable, kind life! But the products of the nature bearing in an echo of great universal, natural harmony not learnt till now by us, - unless it not display of higher of arts? Unless they has not begun all?

Unless the most successful picture of most ingenious of artists not is only a mould, an echo, a reflexion, partial reflexion of what saw, heard, its creator, the live person at contact felt all with the same - with the primary, immemorial, inexhaustible and ubiquitous natural harmony generated and penetrating each live and lifeless material being, each colour and a sound, each feeling? Drawing on wings of the butterfly … It is necessary to peer into any of them. Unless the combination of paints, lines and stains is not ingenious here? But that there drawing! And existence of this ephemeral, flitting beings, complexity of its transformations, zaprogrammirovannost and ambiguity of behaviour, constant self-reproduction and so on, and so on - whether this art? And plant sheet? And a flower? And a life, for example, a stream?

Saving Leonardo, Rembrandt, Raphael's products, other greatest artists, writing down and executing constantly music of composers, reprinting great books, carefully preserving sculptures and buildings, whether reasonably carelessly and disrespectfully to concern to what has served as a fundamental principle of all our cultural wealth?

Even carefully and carefully protected crone of a tree will not be saved, if ruthlessly and extremely it is imprudent to chop roots. But on the contrary: the hurt crone will restore initial beauty if roots are saved. And we for some reason imprudently concern roots.

Microreserves are, of course, not panacea, but a good course, I thought. Carefully and validly concerning particles, we learn is better and in much bigger degree we will save the whole. We will save our roots, caring about the most thin, but their vital shoots which main thing, the beginning of the beginnings of a tree, its microsites of contact with mother-earth and is. The main thing in a tree not a trunk, not branches, not thick roots - conductors all it only and stores of live energy. The main thing - leaves and lobes of roots. With them begins. Without them the tree will not live. Through them, by means of their tree enters into vivifying mutual relations with surrounding his environment, with the earth, air and a sunlight …

So, I have come back from Tajikistan to Moscow, and not having found Apollo.

At home has again begun krugovert duties and affairs - necessary to me and necessary to someone. I still acted with display of slides and stories about travel to the surprising world of the nature surrounding us from different directions.

And though I have photographed and beljanku pontija glaukonoma, and golubjanku frejeriju trohuljus, and it is a lot of others tadzhikistanskih butterflies in the Vahshsky valley, however and did not think, of course, to leave the main Dream.

On the contrary.

She still lived in me, and on its wings, light, translucent, scarlet and black stains still were seen. It were wings of the butterfly which «flies only to solar weather».

The chapter the third

Good luck

1.

«We meet 28 Tashkent urgently inform Денау address Surkhan-Darya ДСУ-5 Maxims».

I have received such telegramme in the beginning of May of next year.

What to speak about how it has pleased me! After all has not forgotten Igor, and here … As we more often recently face with neobjazatelnostju, in any measure have ceased to attach significance to words and another's, and the, kruzhiliha a daily life grasps us, blinds, deafens, days flash, as landscapes in windows of a rushing train … But stop! Stop, look back, the person. Stop a train of the vanity, rushing it is not known where.

As I undersigned for fidelity to Dream, and nevertheless, to tell the truth, not so believed that I will wait telegrammes. Yes, Igor has liked me, and we with it slightly corresponded (time in some months). Also there was, of course, a thought to fly to Tashkent in the beginning of June to look for that Glade. But after all it is so much affairs! Where there …

And here.

Here not to get to anywhere if you though respect yourself a little. It is necessary to throw all and to fly. I have answered Igor:

«It agree details the letter».

And then took the air ticket on night flight. To be in Tashkent in the morning of 28th.

The autumn, winter and spring were at me, as well as at many, of course, extremely difficult. Each adult person knows, that the such has put also cares when to take rest there is no time also seasons do not notice. And here the human body starts to revenge for the inattentive relation to - from Igor I have received the telegramme in a condition extreme ORZ, which, fading inflaming, proceeded before the flying away. That year there was extraordinary late, rotten spring in Moscow. On May, 19th even snow which laid under a fence in the forenoon has dropped out. The sun we almost also did not see. In such conditions it is pleasant to think, of course, that you depart to Tashkent. But the person perceives the validity on the mood that is why it was not believed even, that somewhere can be warm and the sun shines.

In the morning 27th has called Igor from Tashkent.

- You fly?

- I treat.

About ORZ I certainly have not told, and flight has named, Igor promised to meet. Has typed with itself a heap of tablets and drops besides two cameras, a telephoto lens, nasadochnyh rings, three tens films, a writing-book for records …

If to try to describe, how my Dream she was not similar at all during that moment to the Dark blue bird felt. Most likely, on the chicken, and even at all on a chicken. Yes, perhaps, it was a chicken. Wet and sickly. I in effect not for Apollo went. Went to be treated.

But when went to the airport with a backpack behind shoulders in the evening, the chicken has started, and its plumelets as though have dried. Sowing in the plane, I have forgotten about the cold and even have passed an evening drug intake. While flied, has dozed off, and having woken up in immediate proximity from Tashkent, has felt, as something in me trembles also iridescent reflexions of someone's wings hardly flicker through dregs and a fog of slowly clearing up consciousness. Wings were light, translucent, and on them scarlet and black stains … were seen

How I could forget Dream? After all itself how much time spoke! Both another, and. The sun shone in the Tashkent sky, and was so joyfully again to meet it. As if other validity has begun. Present. And there, in Moscow, there was only muddy dream … And here it, a reality - solar and perfect.

Leaving the plane, going down on a gangway on the boundless open space of an airfield filled in with the sun, I have mechanically lowered a hand in a pocket and have groped there something not clear - any vial, any svertochki, tablets … Ba, really this mine? Here also has recollected about ORZ which tormented me the whole month. Certainly, would be exaggeration to tell, that from it does not remain also a trace. Traces some were, but they thawed on eyes.

Suntanned to African smugloty Igor has met me a familiar smile: chubby lips were stretched, moustaches puffed up, blue eyes turned in shchelochki from which corners wrinkles shone brightly. Both moustaches, and eyebrows, and whisky at it have burnt out to yellowness, I have noted it with undisguised envy. The sun shines somewhere!

- This time I, hope, was not late? - I have asked, admiring the future guide, a conductor in the magic country of my Dream.

- I hope, that is not present, - smiling, Igor has answered. - but generally I there yet was not. We will hope, that to us will carry. Though, speak, in mountains the hailstones were. This year in general non-standard …

The first day - day of arrival at us, naturally, was gone, as on the Glade after all it is necessary to go since the morning. And in the second day, 29th, we too could not get there because Igor, being in Tashkent on business trip, finished the industrial affairs. However, since Monday at it holiday began. And 29 there was a Friday. On Sunday it should depart home. So there was with us in effect only one day - Saturday, on May, 30th. On Saturday he also wished to show the Glade. Having learnt about it, I nevertheless have become sad, for the Dream again, apparently, has hung on a hair. What, if this day the rain in mountains will go or at least the sun will disappear? After all Apollos «fly only to solar weather».

The first delight was replaced at me by doubts, but I was meanwhile invigorated. The sun shone also 29th. When Igor was released from the affairs, we have gone to a nature Museum.

It is known, that sometimes the meeting with someone (or with something) can absolutely change human life. In the historical afternoon for me was, as it is already told, on May, 26th, 1969, but after all it was preceded by a number of meetings with people which have advised the person who was engaged in a usual photo, to buy nasadochnye rings, a reversible film, "Zenith" and … having bent double, having knelt, on hunkers, on chetverenki, and even ulegshis a breast on the earth to look out for beauty and secrets of "domestic jungle», at the same time to reconsider the relation at first to travel, and then and to the world in general.

Not casually east wise men speak: «the First what remember most of all, attention to each person with whom speak, to each business by which do. All human life - only attention».

And if I with such attention have concerned then a bumblebee on a dandelion, to a bug-fireman, a fly and zlatoglazke what to speak about that, as I have started to look at people differently.

2.

The meeting with E was one of meetings which have followed mine «historical opening». M.Antonovoj, the mistress of butterflies of the Zoomuseum. She with such attention looked my slides! And there and then, in a museum where I have brought diaproektor, there was Dmitry Viktorovich Panfilov, a Cand.Biol.Sci. He too has praised them, and has then given me Gritsenko G. P's address to which I have written the letter with the request to take me in expedition. And the first - in Syr-Darya tugai - has appeared so considerable in my life, that I have written about it the book. And then we still went with George Petrovichem, and it as now Igor Maksimov, too became in any measure my brother on spirit. Certainly, it would be desirable to meet it again.

George Petrovich was not so resolute in the actions, as Igor. Though it also went regularly on expedition from a nature Museum, however something pursued it, any discomfort, it as though not in a condition was to leave something, whether, on the contrary, could not catch up with something. It, as well as at any normal person, undoubtedly, had a Dream, but here what? He knew always very much, this modest worker of a museum, I together with others was amazed its erudition, memories, to ability to draw an exact and laconic conclusion from observed, however neither he for some reason did not write the dissertation, nor for big serious articles, stories about seen on expedition though we with it about this last agreed and in magazine of its stories waited. Why? What is the trouble?

I have not come yet to the certain conclusion …

Has learnt, however, now from Igor, that George Petrovich became the deputy director of a museum. It has pleased me, but nevertheless it seemed, that the main thing not here is covered.

Though the word "museum" in a fundamental principle at Greeks means «a temple of muses», at me it for some reason associates with a "mummy" word: at once covers a smell of naphthalene, chloroform, a dust, any decay. And still a scratch of parquet floors and reverential or, on the contrary, missing shepotok visitors. Certainly, here a lot of interesting among exhibits, sometimes, undoubtedly, unique, the most valuable, original; certainly, the weight of the curious information is given generously to visitors by the guide, but me - though kill - at a word "museum" the intolerable boredom immediately covers, and a throat and jaws are already ready to make known reflex movement …

No, I not against museums, in no event! But it is thought, that the form of giving of a material in the majority of them is extremely obsolete - it all the same, that was hundred years ago! Also it turns out, in my opinion, that the smell of naphthalene, chloroform and other interrupts aroma of Dream though after all he should reign among strange exhibits of "a temple of muses». And it during that time when a science, the technics, all service of the information have left so far forward! Unless to compare ours teleradioraketnuju a life to that, what was at the beginning of the century? And museums as a matter of fact all the same. Already and the colour photo in blossoming, and colour cinema not news, and holography begins for a long time the way, and tsvetomuzyka reigns over minds, the TV was included into each house, about radio there is nothing and to speak. And any more only sound tape recorders, but also video become subjects of quite wide consumption. And the form of giving of a material, character of an exposition practically all museums all the same. Whether it should vary? I think, that is indispensable. After all our perception has considerably changed. What here it is possible to make? I not undertake more exhaustively to answer, but I nevertheless have an idea concerning the Museum entomologii. In what it consists? I will tell about it later. Because it is my Blue, and can be, even Pink Dream …

So, we with Igor have gone to the Museum of the nature of a city of Tashkent - the largest museum such in Central Asia, to it recently was executed hundred years. There we also have met George Petrovichem Gritsenko and with its constant companions on expedition - Lena, Belief, Tahirom. And more with one person to meet with which I wanted for a long time already. I liked its report at that meeting in Yerevan which resolution with such heat has urged all citizens to think seriously of protection not only large representatives of fauna of the country, but also smaller, bespozvonochnyh, and mainly insects. He, R.R.Kreps, in the performance has suggested not only to protect shestinogih, but also and to plant the most rare and valuable of them. Especially it concerned large and beautiful butterflies, in particular to sailing vessels: mahaonu, podaliriju, aleksanoru … their Cultivation in natural conditions too would be step to the device of microreserves, development of salutary idea.

When we with Igor have come, Rostislav Romanovich Kreps just finished excursion but to a museum, namely on section entomologii. Here I also have seen in jashchichkah representatives local Apollos - actually Apollo, that is Parnassiusa apollo, then Tjanshansky Apollo (Parnassius tjanshanikus) and, yes experts will excuse me, Apollo delfijskogo (Parnassius delfius). I therefore ask apologies from experts, that they name sort so grown fond to me cheshuekrylyh so - Parnassius, that is, if to translate from Latin, something like «inhabitants of Parnassus». So Charles Linnej that has placed them on Mountain of Gods … However was captivated by these butterflies once itself great sistematik it is accepted to name all butterflies of this sort and Apollos, and it is pleasant to me so them to name, but here at the first minutes of acquaintance with Rostislavom Romanovichem Krepsom I immediately was ashamed of the diletantizma and at its presence named all butterflies of this sort too so - Parnassiusy.

The subject of hobby Rostislava was, it is possible to tell, is identical to mine: sort Parnassius (Apollos) of family of Sailing vessels from group cheshuekrylyh a class of insects of type bespozvonochnyh the world (kingdom) of animals! At Rostislava it, the truth, was a little bit wider - in general all family of Sailing vessels, but after all at me then is and more wider - in general all group, a class, even the world!

I do not know why, but Rostislav Romanovich Kreps looked at us from height of the growth indulgently and words spoke after careful consideration, vzveshenno, it is careful - so as if left value which we with Igor hardly in a condition on advantage to estimate. Perhaps, it simply did not leave a role of the guide? To me immediately him, why so tsenna for it this theme - Sailing vessels, what in it such especial uncontrollably wanted to ask? Definitely Rostislav Romanovich knew about butterflies something such that we with Igor, of course, did not know and at all did not suspect. But what, what? However, at everyone after all the Dream …

And so it wanted to me to talk on this theme, but Kreps, alas, has been occupied - has come and its one more group of schoolboys which he should spend on museum halls waited. We have left, and Igor has had time to learn, to my pleasure, that though the hailstones and were in mountains, however Apolloniusy nevertheless should fly. Rostislav Romanovich has told it with the same relevancy from what he spoke in general about everything that is why now with Igor of a campaign I have been absolutely assured of success of ours.

And then we have come to George Petrovichu Gritsenko.

In conversation with it something was found out such, that could have for me rather serious continuation: somewhere in the middle of June, and can be, and Pamiro-scarlet with arrival the next expedition of the Museum of the nature to little-known area of Hissar mountains in the end goes to two reserves - Kyzylsujsky and Mirakinsky. Both typically mountain - are located at height about 2000 metres and above. There not only Apollos should be, there even humanoids, speak, met, imperceptible "yetis". So …

About, a life human! That you last slowly and sadly, and that suddenly pripuskaeshsja at a gallop. Business trip washing was only for ten days, till June, 7th; really it is necessary to depart at first, and then again to come back?

- The area very interesting, - has told George Petrovich. - I very much advise to you. Look.

3.

 We spent the night at friend Igor, driver Zagida, in typically Asian southern house. Along a fencing of a small court yard there was the covered gallery twined grapes, and apple-trees grew in the court yard, pomegranates, a quince and more any bushes - the present jungle. Zagid has told with pride, that they with wife Rimmoj built this house, and I saw, that for pride there are all bases: the house was simply magnificent.

I slept restlessly: have laid down late, and there was a danger to oversleep and be late for the bus which went from autostation about eight mornings. I in general was very much perevozbuzhden - after all the whole two days was fried under the Tashkent sun in uncertainty, though and in immediate proximity from a mysterious Glade. For these two days the image of perfect live Apollo - and this time, obviously, Apolloniusa (for such representatives of sort Parnassius, according to Igor, occupied the Glade) - has reached in my imagination of the huge sizes and solar wings closed all. Really I will see it and I will photograph? Really it is possible?

Even very desired for us loses the appeal if it is reached easily and quickly, - such is our essence! But if you cannot reach in any way though constantly there is a probability of achievement appeal uncontrollably grows. Here, of course, always traps danger of disappointment when a desired subject will reach, however danger does not threaten, if this "subject" - beauty. I have had time to be convinced of it for the life. For the beauty cannot be seized, it is not subject to the proprietor, it is eternal and in effect is never achievable - it is possible to come nearer to it only, it is possible to enjoy it and even to divide pleasure with others, but it cannot be seized. The beauty is something such, that always remains out of us, it neunichtozhima and is indivisible, and its main blessing that it can give pleasure by much. It unites people.

I was not afraid of disappointment, I thirsted the prompt meeting and that really was afraid - so it to be late on the bus. But we have not overslept and had time even to have breakfast - Zagid and his wife have risen because of us too early and have made a breakfast. And then Zagid has deduced the car from garage to take us to autostation. Ah, what a pity, that for Igor this day was not so solemn, as for me! I so would like, that in case of good luck it would divide with me pleasure pervootkrytija … But here there's nothing to be done, and I was heated by thought, that I will necessarily tell about it another and if slides also a smog to show successfully turn out. If only to meet desired Apolloniusa, I will try to remove it well.

Morning was cool, pure, the day dust for a long time has settled, there was no closeness. Air in Central Asia is dry, that is why nights and deliver mornings true pleasure by the freshness and a cool. Only aromas of flowers are intertwined in the cold transparency of morning air penetrated by the first beams of yet hot sun.

We were in time on the bus and hour two went at first across the infinite Tashkent shined with the sun, then on its green one-storeyed suburbs, at last on horizon tops of mountains have seemed. Some have been covered by snow and sparkled through blue to a smoke. Names of cities and settlements sounded music: Parkent, Gazalkent, Chirchik, Iskander … I in advance already - advance payment - liked this edge and have been adjusted for a holiday, it seemed to me, that here now, probably, the best hours of my life have begun.

Travel is, of course, always well, but not often there are minutes here such full dissolution in a kind reality to you, expectation of indispensable luck, sensation of unity and harmony to all on light. This bus, the people who are entering both leaving at stops and sitting next, trees behind a window, small houses, mountains, motor howl, a scratch, a gnash and other various sounds accompanying our not too fast movement on highway, even a smell of gasoline and a dust flying to cracks and leaving dry characteristic smack in a mouth, - all it called in me feeling of completeness and pleasure of life.

I do not know, whether felt all he is Igor, but already one that it as it was found out, has arrived to Tashkent specially because of me, and now here has gone with me on the Glade where happened time and again (representatives of its world cheshuekrylyh already was much in its collection), called in me feeling of hot gratitude to the brother on spirit. I even excused in advance to it and a huge net which it carried with itself(himself), and that damage which, possibly, will be put harmonious ensemble of the Glade. Good, let! Yes I after all will constrain it, at me he will not dare …

How it looks, this Glade? I did not ask, and to what, I only tried to make out its image in own imagination and saw something motley, dense, dazzling.

And here we left at a small stop - "on demand", - and then still caught a passing car because to that place, whence it was necessary to go on foot, the Tashkent bus did not go. It was hot - the sun has already risen, along road the dust walked, the wind blew, under it roadside grasses tended - some have dried up, some blossomed. Over mountains which were absolutely already nearby, rjabili zhidenkie plumose a cloudlet - "tsirusy" as their Igor has named. A cloudlet called it some trouble which was passed also to me. However any surprising proof feeling of indispensable luck sang in me and if I now recollect those minutes and I try to find comparison, for memory something comes absolutely the old: rare absolutely happy days of an early youth when the happiness condition covered sometimes for no apparent reason.

Certainly, we have caught poputku and in fifteen minutes have reached to that place where the road came to an end. The pedestrian way now was coming. Mountains already surrounded us from different directions. Here they were still low, green, here and there with yellow stains - blossomed ferula and prangos, but hardly the peak on which slopes there were white veins far away rose. The asphalt road came to an end in settlement - the small houses, any fences, but here we passed it and have come to be in a small river valley. The mountain small river half hidden in violent blossoming thickets.

Here I have looked back and have understood, what is it "paradise". Present "paradise". At me tears hardly have not acted on eyes, the person and a throat was held down by a spasm. It is necessary to understand my condition - long expectation, vanity and a web of daily cares, melkost, unsolvability of problems, inevitable degeneration of feelings and thoughts and this irritating, exhausting, infinite illness with such "fashionable", modern name. In abbreviated form: ORZ. And here …

We were literally deafened by the bird's hubbub, a twitter, whistle. There was such impression, that all of them here have become stupid with happiness because the greens behaved violently, because meal, obviously, was much because it is so much colours … Yes, I never saw simultaneously so much colours and such different! But most of all was all the same colours of a dogrose of every possible shades - from absolutely white with is gentle-yellow eyelashes of stamens in depth as if porcelain bowl to is dense-pink, almost red, and even dark yellow. Each bush has been generously covered by them, and under it still laid both a layer of petals. And all it - both flowers, and petals - exhaled delightful, truly paradise aroma. Grasses blossomed also a hawthorn, and more any bushes, and trees, and certainly.

Air in the usual sense was not, there was that in ancient books was called, apparently, ambroziej, we did not breathe, and drank, absorbed, swallowed, and I do not know, that else did with this dense and simultaneously weightless, extraordinary tasty and freshening matter which filled space between colours, greens and mountains. We bathed in it, were thrilled, were blissfully happy, were dissolved. The spasm was only at first, from unexpectedness, in some minutes I have felt, on the contrary, a full relaxation, trust to all this good fortune. The body exhausted by a city fussy life as if would start. My soul as sleeping and already lost hope to wake up a tsarevna, has suddenly slightly opened eyes, having felt gentle kisses of this air, this cool, this happiness of a life which here without any restrictions triumphed. «To see - and to die», - I have understood sense of this expression. But it would not be desirable to die certainly … at all

And there was still a small river. Cold, absolutely transparent - we drank from it. And even slightly popleskali on myself - I, the truth, did it cautiously, - because we all the same not besplotny, and our flesh, alas, even in such wonderful place "is subject". Bacteria and viruses too should live! A variety of a life after all also is supported by that, that there are predators, a victim, parasites … I felt, that viruses ORZ in me still remained also they too, probably, have already started in delight.

The footpath lasted along small river all time for lifting, in mountains, it jumped from one coast on another, and, not to leave it, it was necessary to jump from a stone on a stone. And stones laid in raging water. And besides the bird's singing we were accompanied lovely to heart by small river murmur.

That was still perfect, so it is dew. In those places where the small river valley extended then that the big shaggy leaves korovjaka there rose, they were grey-haired from dew, and some sparkled on the sun, as if showered with brilliants (I could not be kept not to embody these leaves on a reversible film). And absolutely it was touching to see on some of them bright red as if varnished, ladybirds which with surprising calmness sat and seemed accurately ground round brooches pinned to someone's rich serebristo-diamond cloaks. The set of bushes of a plant with such "democratic" name "korovjak" stood in imperial dresses, and no "conceit" in them existed; we with Igor easy photographed, and ladybirds with such readiness posed for us!

About to photograph all was possible successively, worthy objects was around so many that eyes at me have run up. But the conductor Igor, having waited while I will make some shots, has told:

- And how Apolloniusy?

And I have come round.

We have gone further, I felt as in a happy dream, the sensation of the past and the future has disappeared, there was, apparently, only a solar, blossoming present. Then I tried to count up, how much kinds of plants blossomed, has counted some tens the most appreciable and has got off. But after a dogrose the most appreciable were appearing yellowness ferula and prangos; violet vika, high, in growth of the person, forming places penisto-violet islets; any white umbellate, too the high; very bright, solnechno-yellow zveroboj; a yarrow yellow and white; festivalno decorated with white and pink festoons of the extended colours, all in long, silky, silver hairs onosma …

When the footpath became more abruptly and, coquettishly being bent, has flied up on an abrupt slope of mountain, I have seen at the most feet something absolutely strange, as if «not from this world»: directly dark, barhatno-brown "ear" which as though served as an original vase for thin and enough long stuck out of the earth, almost absolutely black core, such "pencil". This curious plant from family aroidnyh as Igor has told, here and name "pencil". Certainly, as well as all on this holiday of colours, it was very effective.

The footpath in all directions slowly and important, vrazvalochku, was crept by the black bugs-kravchiki soiled by the earth, and also every possible chernotelki. Ran, suddenly stopping and sparkling green with iridescent outflow nadkryljami and eyes, racers. Scarlet ladybirds shone. Buzzed, flies-sirfidy and wasps, bees, bumblebees ringed striped, osopodobnye. Tiny spiders, ants flickered, flashed and absolutely microscopic winged creations, sparkles shone on the sun …

However butterflies was for some reason a little. Some kinds beljanok, shashechnitsy, one-two perlamutrovki, golubjanki. On violet florets viki regaled on nectar bojaryshnitsy, from apart on flight they could be accepted for any other butterflies and, maybe, even for small Apollos, some times I and thought, but I was expected by disappointment. Apollos were not. Any.

4.  

- Give we will have a rest, - Igor has told. - a cosy place, the truth?

We went already long enough, a little even have got tired, and here there was a flat site of a valley. On the bank of small river the big boulders which hid in a dense shade of branchy willows, ashes and walnuts laid some. The small river in this flat place has formed a small creek, at coast grown with a high grass. Through hrustalno-pure water rjabili round stones. We rather have got warm on the sun and have slightly got tired of lifting that is why to sit on a stone in a cool shade was real pleasure.

- Far still? - I have asked.

- Yes as to you to tell? - Igor has answered, rising and taking in hands the voluminous net. - not so. We generally have already come.

- How?!

- You see, a footpath? Things you can leave here, take only that is necessary for shooting, and rise on this footpath. There me you will see.

And while I put on the thrown off boots, and then, hurrying up, pulled out from a backpack a photobag, feverishly thinking, as though that important not to forget, Igor has disappeared behind trees.

At last I was equipped, have pulled a yellow cap from the sun and, feeling, that heart desperately beats not only from lifting uphill, but also from something else, has gone on traces of the guide.

From a shade I have come up on the brightest sun - before me the open slope, a such wide hump has swung open flat enough, degrees in twenty. The various vegetation was approximately knee-deep, it here had other character, rather than that, that was earlier on our way. Partially it has already burnt out, but among a high dry grass there were nevertheless many various colours, and rozovo-amethystine balls of inflorescences of a wild onion first of all were evident. But I was not in time anything it as it is necessary to make out, because towards to me Igor and as the sun too shone towards went down, because of his head it seemed, that it goes as though in a solar nimbus. In one hand it had a net, and in another he stretched something to me. It were at once two live Apolloniusa, the male and a female.

Yes, and so also it was possible to me to join for the first time so long-awaited beauty. The Dream was carried out. And in so perfect circumstances. Historical event for me has taken place in mountains Western Tjan-Shanja, in spurs of ridge Karzhantau where I have understood, that time has been chosen by Destiny quite approaching; not too early, that I could experience and estimate it, and not too late that the Dream has not had time to fade.

Live butterflies is at all that in jashchichke under glass: they make indissoluble whole with air, the sun, mountains, the earth, colours and grasses. And even that was nesprosta, that Igor, the person not casual, dawned by Dream (at it it was another, it is slightly more difficult realizable - butterflies of the South America …), that is why understanding and respecting Dream another's, the brother on spirit has resulted me here.

Caught by Igor Apolloniusy were very big in comparison with the average, usual butterflies, the glowing redness of round stains was evident, but coal blackness of other stains, especially on wings of a female which besides it were almost transparent and as if are splashed by the black points condensed at the basis of wings not less surprised. Besides, absolutely unexpected was, that little bodies of butterflies thick enough, is dense-shaggy: the present fur from hairs, dark at the basis and light, as if grey-haired, on the ends of their coverlets, as a fur coat. Legs at the basis too have been densely downy and now so touchingly moved, and round eyes on fluffy muzzles looked bewildered: who holds them for wings and why?

They were, of course, perfect. Something unusual was in them, very original and unusual, something they strongly differed from other day butterflies - this shagginess combined with sunniness and a transparency of wings, unexpected brightness of stains. Then I have understood, that in Apolloniusah there was a concentration of spirit of local places - these mountains, green, blossoming, and at tops covered with sparkling snow. It is surprising nevertheless as its spirit is embodied in insects - the diversified, most diverse representatives of wildlife of the Earth-. For the first time I have noticed it, examining the butterfly solar gipermnestru in Syr-Darya tugajah in the neighbourhood with the clay desert burnt out by the sun. And here again.

The male more light, almost white, less transparent, than a female, stains small, but bright. In him, perhaps, there is more than grace, fragility, but the female seemed simply magnificent. The harmonous young gentleman and "pyshnotelaja" the coddled beauty …

But to examine though also live, however the caught butterflies there was all the same not absolutely that would be desirable me. More correctly, even at all that …

- And it is a lot of them here? - I have asked, at last having lifted eyes on Igor.

- Is. Fly., look …

The big light butterfly was carried by by planning easy flight absolutely near to us and has easily fallen on an inflorescence of a wild onion which under it has begun to rock. It was is pure-white, with small stains, and I have understood, what is it the male.

- And a female, you see? - Igor has told. - and, far away hardly. You see?

They flied, as though dancing, only very softly and smoothly, ancient slow dance: having waved wings, held them motionlessly, having spread and planning, or, slightly having raised and having made thus a corner, smoothly fell on an inflorescence. They covered its tenacious shaggy pads and, shaking together with it, pytali hobotkom its sweet bowels.

That surprising, I have thought, that have named them Parnassiusami, and these also Apolloniusami. The name of the god of art and light so approaches to them therefore especially, that to anybody after all they do not do harm (the rights there was Aksakov!) - the present vegetarians pollinating flowers, nobody exterminating, not parasitizing on anybody, not breeding impetuously, as some. Both perfect. And solar.

Though they, of course, also take the certain place in natural ensemble, in the interconnected chain of live organisms, however the link surprises it with the neobjazatelnostju. There will be no bees, for example, - there are not pollinated many kinds of floral plants. Without bumblebees not in a condition normally to exist and breed the clover. Bugs-earth-boring dung beetles clear the earth and fertilise it. The same it is possible to tell about bugs-grave-diggers and trupoedah, even about flies, whose larvae, at all ours to them hostility, bear public health service. The enormous quantity of kinds of insects plays very important role in natural processes, and their disappearance can affect natural balance rather aloud.

And here role Parnassiusov, as well as many other things perfect large butterflies, is mysterious. What for they?

It would seem, kinds of colours which they pollinate, not too it is a lot of. For them, obviously, could pollinate others, less effective from the aesthetic point of view. Their caterpillars do not bear any public health service. Birds, I think, too could manage without them - for birds other food will suffice also.

And it seems, that the big, beautiful butterflies and Apollos too is a song of the nature. And its help to us: all not so is simple and unequivocal, as can seem at first sight. Beauty - the same necessary part of the nature, as well as any another.

5.  

We on Glade Maksimova of hour have spent two. It was immersing in a solar, life-giving essence of the Asian mountains. Except a wild onion which rozovo-amethystine and as if by balls shone on the sun did the Glade very elegant, the cereals which have burnt out to yellowness, ferula and prangos, astragal, zveroboj, a bruise (ehium), ochitok - fodder plant Apolloniusov, jasenets (diktamnus), zvezdchatka, wild peas (nut), a tansy, a yarrow, onosma here grew, some kinds of undersized bushes, a dwarfish cherry which were all in pink florets as in laces. But, perhaps, high is crimson-scarlet candles of fruits of rhubarb Maksimovicha, rubies glowing on the sun were the most appreciable. Huge, dried up, but still its obstinately sticking out leaves reminded skilful vases. Stones and rocky exposures here were angular, wrinkled, all shades brown - from ryzhe-brown to is dark-chocolate.

Except Apolloniusov in set flied bojaryshnitsy, zheltushki, golubjanki, shashechnitsy, is more rare mahaony.

Also there was that case when the validity did not seem the imagination poorer. How much time I have visited imagination already on this Glade, how much time as if photographed Apollo, a subject of my old Dream! And its spread solar wings with bright red and coal-black stains closed all visible space, and through them blueness of the sky was visible, red proverifications were as though the skilful image at once the several sun, and black, shading them supplemented a picture, reminding about darkness and freshness of southern nights about what spoke also silvery lunar fur on a little body of the butterfly. Now actually I saw: all indeed. The beauty - beauty of the nature first of all - cannot disappoint never. If, of course, you are ready to apprehending its pure heart.

And I enjoyed it, I gulped, I bathed in beauty, was blissfully happy, I perceived it, apparently, not only eyes, but also all being.

Only, unfortunately, I have made one error: all two hours were without a shirt, naked on a belt, and my poor skin which has faded for long winter months in a city, has undergone to an excessive irradiation ultra-violet beams at height about two thousand metres above sea level, that has terminated then for it is pitiable. But it was in the future. While I enjoyed a holiday of joyful and is full-valuable life. «Here it also is a life», - I thought.

But it has appeared, as beauty as an ultraviolet, in the big doses it is dangerous. Hour through two I has been overflowed, it is possible to tell, to edges. And when Igor has suggested to sit in the shadow of trees at a river creek where we have left things, I have agreed, without grief leaving a solar Glade. Some films have been finished shooting, and mainly there were on them Apolloniusy, males and females. And I felt, that they necessarily should turn out: the sensation of indispensable luck and any symmetry of life continuously lasting now, and correctness it did not leave intelligence me. I could not realise that yet, that has occurred, while I only felt.

Then, after rest in the shadow of trees at small river, I have begun to photograph on the Glade flowers, perfect natural "ikebana". The ikebana is an art of drawing up of the flower bouquets, developed in Japan. There even there is a whole institute which prepares experts in an ikebana. But here, on the Glade, among stones, magnificent "bouquets" were already ready - not cut off and put in vases, and live! Here there were no insipid, ridiculous combinations, on the contrary. Gracefully and with surprising feeling of a measure sprawling melkorazreznye leaves prangosa and feruly shaded amethystine inflorescences of a wild onion. Magnificently blossoming dwarfish bushes of a cherry have decorated with the gentle lace a severe surface of a rock. The bush zveroboja in gloomy gorge, as if taken roots in wild stones solar "zajchik" was surprisingly pertinently shone kanareechno-bright from set of colours. With any regal grace full of advantage there were on high stalks among the huge, magnificent, already dried up leaves ruby fruits of rhubarb Maksimovicha. Amicably and cheerfully, one to one, were built small kurtinkami pinkish fleshy stalks ochitka with pinkish sharp leaves and is gentle-pink inflorescences. On them with special hunting had a seat Apolloniusy …

Yes, I have unburdened the heart on this Glade. It is good, that took enough films … And then we with Igor have gone familiar road home. And here it is surprising: on a way again have not met any Apolloniusa. So if not to know the Glade site, will tell to be exact - the Slope it is possible to think in general, that solar butterflies who «meet locally and in a small amount», in the nearest vicinities are not present.

But we knew, that they are. Is! And it filled me with sensation of secret and happiness.

6.

The business trip purpose, actually, has already been reached, whether yes only aim business trips … And now has visited me kind calmness. And directly the shiver covered at thought that, having seen off Igor, I will come again on Slope Maksimova - in blissful loneliness! - also I will start easy and to travel with concentration in a jungle - in a jungle long-awaited, for a long time the desired Dense Glade which image has developed in my imagination for a long time but to which me vanity of a daily life in any way did not suppose. Yes, in a jungle - in this rather closed ekosisteme, naturally developed community of plants, animal, on original "continent" where all are connected with each other that is why can to try understand laws local «social harmony».

That is why I consider photographing of insects and «Apollo's searches» as serious business - because the attentive and interested relation to the nature, the steadfast sight "close up" helps to understand a human nature, mutual relations between people.

And here, for example, about that again, as to hobbies. It is a serious question, because the person who has been not carried away by anything, - the boring person, boring for associates and for itself too. The person healthy can take a great interest in something. It in our nature. Our society, unfortunately, not so while is perfect, that work of everyone was exclusively creative that enthusiasm accompanied that function which is born by the person in public labour process on creation of material assets …

Though, of course, enthusiasm of enthusiasm rozn. Someone all life takes a great interest, for example, purely material priobretatelstvom, someone sleeps and sees, as though, having humiliated others, to tower most, not very well, at the expense of what, the main thing - to tower to have possibility to rule, force others to do that is necessary not for them, and to it. And, of course, to it at all does not come to mind to bring itself into accord to general harmony any there and beauty. He considers, that it is quite enough of others to bring into accord to that image which has developed exclusively in its consciousness, consciousness of the person certainly especial, "selected". What there harmony, what there ensemble! Only harmony with it in the centre, only ensemble under its management. Such enthusiasm is directed only on itself, she does not see others, she does not feel the validity. Where there to understand an essence of subjects and the phenomena of the real world, where to study to see! Such eyes actually see only barriers - barriers to the self-conceit. Unless it is Dream?

But happens, obviously, other extreme measure when the person in general on what does not dare. He is afraid of others, is afraid of itself, he does not live, and ostorozhnenko vegetates. Decays. So where it, a golden mean?

Probably, the main secret in in what the person takes a great interest and as. If a subject of hobby out of it if carries away it not that it is connected personally with it and something concerns only it, and the general if how he will look in light of the hobby interests it not, and, on the contrary, as the subject of its hobby will begin to shine for it (at the same time and for others) as a result of its works, that's all right. Then also the ambition becomes the blessing. Then there is a surprising: than more person likes the business, the more strongly its own interest, the bolshy interest to its this business is cleared up by it at others. Employment which brings huge advantage to him and gives it sensation of completeness of a life, gets already and public sense.

Such keen people and dvizhut forward mankind.

It is interesting, that Charles Linnej was very ambitious person that and itself did not hide, and its acquaintances and biographers in different ways underline this property of its character. Here that its former pupil writes, for example. Professor Fabritsius: «Linnej was boundless it is ambitious, and saying was its motto:« Famam ekstendere faktis "(" Affairs to increase glory »)». Probably, it is possible to welcome such vanity only! Further professor Fabritsius continues: «… nevertheless literary superiority was unique object of its ambition; in him at all was not insulting for others protivoobshchestvennoj pride. Advantage of noble family which the Swedish king has welcomed it (itself Linnej occurred from a modest family of the rural pastor. - JU. A) To it it was pleasant only as the certificate of its scientific merits. In questions of botany it hardly took down even insignificant contradictions, but with gratitude accepted friendly remarks and It used them for improvement of the works … willingly spoke about the merits and liked, that with it admired, that, apparently, and was its main weakness. The love to praises had at it the basis confidence of the superiority, the scientific successes recognised as all and reputation of time first systematisation ».

Charles Linnej, as is known, one of the most prolific scientists. It has made huge job on systematisation of all creations of the nature. And character of its hobby, character of ambition which moved it so converges surprisingly with the same at any other scientist, the traveller, the writer, the poet - all those who the acts remained in grateful memory human. And motto Linneja approaches to them to all «Affairs to increase glory». Affairs. That is for others.

7.

The next day should be lost - not to go on the Slope because I saw off Igor.

But I already physically could not travel in a jungle of the Dense Glade because in the evening, after returning home, a back washing, and especially shoulders, burnt fire from solar burns, and extinguish it could not a cream with cologne, that usually to me helped, neither sour milk, nor juice of fresh cucumbers. I slept on a stomach, and could not even carry through a shoulder the camera in the afternoon: its thong burnt down, as if the heated iron. But temperature was not, and it consoled. I believed in the potential possibilities of the organism strengthened now by hot thirst of returning to the Slope.

With Igor we tested truly brotherly tenderness to each other, leaving, he has wished me good travel, and I with pleasure recollected, what it almost caught nothing on the Slope - I has really worked «psychological processing»? And more he advised necessarily to visit Samarkand where I did not happen yet.

I already said, that if you enter on a way of kind mutual relations with the nature, she answers the same, and sometimes coincidence surprises … This time se "goodwill" was expressed that morning of next day has been tightened by a grey network of a rain. Igor has left, and to be engaged to me there was nothing. Those from old residents whom I asked, said, that an infinite rain in June - such in Central Asia will not remember. And it drizzled meanwhile not ceasing, all the day long. And only then I have understood, what is it was and actually the goodwill certificate to me from the nature: at least podzhila a skin on a back and shoulders.

And morning was on June, 2nd the fresh, cool, washed yesterday's rain and clear.

In what impatience I went on a familiar route! This day, appear, will be even more interesting, important. After all how much years I dreamt of travel to a jungle of the Dense Glade! And here at last … the Adult person, I behaved in effect, as the boy. These two-three hours while I reached at first by a trolley bus, then by a tram to autostation, then fidgeted from impatience in the stuffy bus, then caught a passing car (and has caught very quickly!) And at last has come to be again in a blossoming valley of mountain small river, - all this time the clod, appear, stood at me in a throat, I was pulled as if the strongest magnet, by me as the traveller dying of thirst, was torn to a vivifying well. Hardly probable during that moment there was for me something more important … Even on a dewy valley sparkling by diamonds in streams of delightful aromas of a dogrose and a hawthorn I did not run almost though the way was all time uphill. Surprising force wakes up in us when we actually want something! Here they, the latent reserves which each person … Yes possesses, strange and at first sight inexplicable obsession in me was, when I, hurrying up, getting off with breath, not falling nearly that darkened in eyes, hurried up uphill, aspiring to the Dense Glade. Again on all voices birds were filled in, again the life triumphed in mnogotsvetii and variety, ringed, murmured, the small river rustled, generously exhaled aromas flowers … And I aspired forward and forward. I as though was afraid, that all that was on May, 30th, it will appear mirazhem: even two days which I have been compelled to pass, seeing off Igor and being rescued then from a rain, seemed a mystical obstacle to realisation of old Dream. One business, that I have removed Apollos and like memory should not bring me - after all was, was! - and the another matter that it could be casual and will not repeat any more. But then again it turns out, that the reality in my Dream is not present and in general any mysticism. To make sure, calm down, understand, that all indeed more likely, more likely, that I was not mistaken, so, the life can be perfect, it should be perfect, and not only for me - for many, for all!

Hardly taking breath, almost run has reached to cosy kushchi trees. While all indeed - here a stone on which we with Igor sat, here a creek with crystal water and stones at the bottom, here even konfetnaja a piece of paper - unique, but nevertheless shameful because motes should not remain there where you were. Now it was possible to take breath. Waters to have a drink. To fill a flask. To leave a backpack, taking only a photobag with equipment. A cap not to forget. And not to remove at all a shirt. Sleeves to clasp and even a collar to lift. Now forward!

And already habitual, quiet awe has started to cover me as soon as I have made the first steps on a way to a jungle of the Dense Glade. Open treasured doors, the Nature! Start up respecting you liking you, the son your, attentive and restrained. Give me pleasures, show a spring of the generosity and love, learn, educate, clear …

Here not a place to vanity. Only when you go, you go, you run here, there is a sense to hurry up. Now haste down with. All - attention, all - in a spirit. On life music, on this great ensemble. «Both zri, and vnemli …»

Again the sun during the first instant has blinded. Infinite open space of the sky, mountains. And the Glade. Grasses, flowers. The triumphing real world. I went on great appointment to the Nature. And I so would like, that it with good has accepted me.

At first it is necessary to rise a little, to those stones. There there were most of all Apolloniusov, and there the most dense, beautiful grasses. While something of solar butterflies is not visible … But what is it? I have seen a huge white net on a long stick. And its diameter was more than at Maksimova. And the stick is much longer. And its high heavy person in a wide-brimmed felt hat bore. Yes, this any not vision … Here to you and time!

The person slowly went down to me towards, and from me as water from ware full of holes, the pleasure and delight quickly left, giving way to melancholy disappointment. It was so unexpected and unfair, that I did not know, as to do. For a rage, disappointment, feebleness at me, I remember, hardly tears were not screwed on eyes. Here so a surprise …

8.

- You from Moscow? - The person has asked, having come nearer and taking breath, wiping sweat from a forehead.

- Yes, from Moscow, - I have muttered to it in the answer not too kindly, so overflowed with hostility that has not had time even to be surprised its insights.

- Jury Sergeevich? - He, and though hostility in me directly boiled, warmed up also its voice which has seemed to me for this Glade too loud and rough has again asked, I felt dumbfounded.

- Yes … And what? - It was mechanically pulled out at me, and I, probably, had very silly appearance during this moment.

Only during the following instant the guess has lighted up me: Kreps! Well certainly senior Kreps! Father Rostislava, the Novel Yanovich. Lena Bogdanova in a museum spoke, that I have necessarily contacted it - it will show good places as Igor after all leaves. But we and have not met. And what else places are necessary, if I have Slope Maksimova?

And he already stretched the huge hand which I in confusion have shaken, hardly having managed to capture its huge palm. «That is why any Apolloniusa yet did not see! - it was carried by at me in a head. - it has caught all, clearly. Was frightened, that we with Igor will catch, has more likely come running with the net …» Hostility washing has even more strongly begun to seethe and, probably, splashed extensively, and he indifferently has begun to tell in the meantime what for:

- Finger skrjuchilo. It I through a stream got over. Here nearby. A stone has slid off and on a hand here so has fallen. Has broken a finger.

It has shown, has how fallen to a hand, has once again shown a brown flourish, and I all boiled from disappointment. Now he from the life will start to tell something, in despair I have thought, and my Glade in the meantime … What to do, and?! And Apolloniusov after all is not present - while we with it stood, I once again have attentively looked round also any have not seen, any! And with Igor when were, them flied much!

- Here after all on stones to skip it is necessary, - it continued nevertheless. - you went here, saw. Here and I … the Slippery stone have got about three years ago. Has grown together, but it is curve, see?

And again what for has shown the crippled hand. And I what for have looked. My God, and time goes, gold time! But already and memoirs does not remain from my kind spirit …

- Here there is nothing to do, - continued indifferently the Novel Yanovich Kreps, and he said such loud voice, that, I think, from one it all Apolloniusy were hid or have scattered. - I with the first bus have arrived, an hour here I go. Anything is not present, the rain has beaten all. Or Kiriljuk has caught. You Kiriljuka did not meet? It catches all successively.

- Who it - Kiriljuk? - I have asked more likely simply by inertia, than with curiosity.

- The professor Moscow, it here comes every year. All catches successively.

«I know, I know, how it has caught all, what rain has beaten. You probably also have caught all», - I thought in a powerless rage. But that what to do? There is no Glade. So I also knew.

- pojdemte, downwards we will go down. pojdemte, pojdemte, here there is nothing to do. I will show other place to you.

And, not looking back at all, in full confidence, it is obvious, that I will follow it, the giant began to go down to kushche trees where my backpack laid. What was to do? I have followed it, having decided, that on road somehow I will escape and I will return here. Anyhow it from here to withdraw? Amazingly, I as it is easy to deprive of charm even such protogenic corner have thought. Here it, «the anthropogenous factor» in all expressiveness!

While went down, I have a little calmed down. Eventually I have some more days. Has not carried today, that you will do! It is necessary to enjoy a bad luck bowl up to the end.

- Take things, - he has told tone of the order, - pojdemte further. I have a stone-throne, I will show to you. Take, take, there it will be better.

Awfully irritated its categoricalness, such, I would tell, impudence, but nevertheless I have again obeyed. Let will show. To slip away eventually always I will be in time. Again he went in advance, not looking back, in full confidence, that its orders are executed.

- I waited for your call, - he when passed on stones small river has told.

- Yes, I was going to to you to call, - I have told lies. - only later. Yesterday such rain was …

- Well here I also have decided to come itself. Cautiously, do not slip! Here, here go! And it is a stone-throne. See, it is similar to an armchair.

Yes, it is valid: a seat, a back. All it as if is cut down from a huge monolith. Both of us have easily gone in on a seat though I have, of course, taken much less places.

- Uff, - the giant has told, taking breath. - it is stuffy, feel? The Earth dries after a yesterday's rain. Evaporations rise. As will dry up, so it will be easier. Breathe more deeply and more slowly, so better.

I have decided to have a bite in the meantime - so hurried up to the Glade that has not had breakfast at all. That now time to lose?

- Pour out, pour out this water! - he when I, not having asked him, have started to type in a flask from the river near to which we sat has ordered. - Here do not drink, there type. See, vodopadik? There also type, water there is better. It is filtered in grasses, and cattle there do not graze.

All in me opposed to dictatorship, but its arguments all the same were convincing, and I have poured out.

- Where? - I have asked again.

- Here bypass, and vodopadik, in a grass. Not here, bypass further! So. See, vodopadik? Nearby mint grows. And a flask at first rinse.

vodopadik really was. And superb, though also small. The mints disturbed by me also have grown, exhaled spicy, delightful aroma. Well, good. Eventually it after all the local. Let will show something. Slope Maksimova will not leave anywhere.

Near to "throne" all delightfully smelt sweet pink from colours a dogrose bush. And from different directions there were thickets. Really, good place.

- Excuse, I did not eat anything, - I have told, what for being justified and getting bread, cucumbers, still something. - want?

- No, - has answered Kreps and has heaved a deep sigh. - at me guts knock. Two days ate nothing. Only water I drink. Type E also to me.

I obediently took its flask, have typed in the same place, in vodopadike. At last villages to have a bite. On my foot has fallen large zlatka. Has slowly spread. Certainly, I have immediately decided it to photograph: the ball comes to the player …

- About look, it from that willow! - has told Kreps, having noticed zlatku. - Only do not release! When will photograph, give to me, I in morilku will plant it.

The disappointment, naturally, immediately has again risen in me: plant, as! I purposely long photographed zlatku, and it eventually has departed.

- Well anything, - against my expectation has easy enough told Kreps. - And it is a pity, at me after all such is not present! At me for you a surprise.

It has got into a small knapsack, has rummaged there and has pulled out a glass jar.

- Caterpillars Apolloniusa. Probably, want to remove? However, they any more very brisk, but I have chosen the best. The others have already pupated. - and he has stretched to me to bank.

Interestingly. Really it has brought specially for me? Caterpillars Apolloniusa! After all it too a subject of my Dream. Where them now you will meet … And here. They were black, shaggy, with red stains.

- You specially for me have brought? - I have asked, not believing the eyes.

- Well, I thought, you want them to remove. Rostislav has told, that you Parnassiusami are interested. Pull out, be not afraid. They will not escape anywhere. Want, a pocket mirror to you I will illuminate. Remove!

Interestingly, interestingly. As if by magic, there was here this giant and caterpillars Apolloniusov has brought. Here so the Glade. Already and occurrence Krepsa I have apprehended as one of its secrets.

9.

And our acquaintance has taken place. Certainly, I then have not cooled down yet, the disappointment still with might and main decayed, but caterpillars Apolloniusa! I also could not hope that sometime them I will photograph. And here, please.

They were not too large - strange, that such big butterfly is deduced from them, - but are, of course, very beautiful. Yanovich patiently highlighted the novel a pocket mirror and again endlessly ordered: «Now from this party! Yes there is no, with that … Here such foreshortening still, look!» - but I listened to it only when orders coincided with my desire, and in general showed hardness.

Strange, he was not angry, when I contradicted it, and gradually I have started even to get used to its excessively loud voice and categorical tone.

- And caterpillars mahaonov can be now? - I because for a long time dreamt to remove and them have asked, but all was not possible in any way.

- You never can tell. But to look it is possible. There they can be, on that sedlovinke, see? On prangose. No, not there, where you look. Here so look, along my hand! Clearly?

I have obediently looked along a hand and have really seen a saddle. But it was rather, is rather far from us …

- We now descend there where I promised to you, - continued meanwhile Kreps. - Me routine inspection needs to be made. There a little unusual form Apolloniusa. It is a lot of versions. And then we will pass here there and on sedlovinke we will look caterpillars mahaona. Though I can not guarantee, that they there will appear. Here such by we will go, look.

I watched closely for it ukazujushchej a hand, but, to tell the truth, doubted, that the route specified to it we will have time to pass today. The way on mountains at all that on plain, and distances here have a little bit other extent, and remains to time not too much, yes after all and forces human too have a limit. I am fine, I habitual, and here to it from it komplektsiej moreover and on a hungry stomach … But valuably already good desire. And then I in general perceived phenomenon Krepsa as something not quite explainable. So … eventually I will remember a route and when I will arrive one … At me on a shower have become warmer, when I have presented, that all the same it will appear sometime here one. Not each time to go on a string!

It has carefully cleaned caterpillars in bank, and bank in a bag, and we have gone. When left from under a shade of branches, it has stopped and has shown to me on rather near plateau:

- This place we with the son have named "Parnassus". There mahaonov it is a lot of. But not now. Now late. There already all flew away. It depends on a season. We in the beginning of May to "Parnassus" go, there Apolloniusov are not present, but Mnemoziny happen and mahaony. Then there, where we have met. And even later - where we go. The son after all on sailing vessels specialises, to it all subtleties should be known. Well pojdemte, and that of time at us a little. Do not lag behind.

And it has walked uphill, but continued to speak almost unceasingly, only hardly translating breath and not looking back. Even its voice has got slightly other colouring when he has recollected first time the son, and now this theme was main in its incessant monologue.

- It has finished university, and now the dissertation writes. In Czechoslovakia was recently on a symposium. That you, already know it abroad! Degree job reaches dissertation level … Uff. But, know, it is not adapted for a life, it is not adapted completely not. And its wife same. I am surprised, how they in general live. Patronage of them both to take it is necessary.

Only for an instant the Novel Yanovich has taken rest, has stopped, has got and has swallowed any tablet. Also continued:

- And it, know, was frightened, when you has seen. Was afraid, that you have no place to be arranged and you to us will ask. We generally accept visitors constantly in the summer, but here recently very big flow was. The wife is very tired. Kiriljuk, besides that itself lived, also visitors accepted in tens. You, means, Kiriljuka do not know? Uff, we will take rest minute, very a steep slope, here, the main thing to hurry up it is not necessary. And you the writer who knows you, can, you too in tens will accept visitors.

- Yes that you, - I have inserted at last. - Me and in a head did not come.

- Yes, I have understood now, but after all puganaja a raven and a bush is afraid.

He has grinned for the first time, and the smile was any curve. It was visible that to order for it much more naturally, than to laugh.

We stood, and I looked round. This slope was too magnificent and completely not such, as former. Kreps has noticed my interest:

- Look, what charming flowers. It gentsiana. Photograph necessarily. And for me too. Then a slide will send. And it ruta. Saw rutu sometime? I, when first time have seen, was surprised: absolutely other it to itself represented. CHervona ruta. And here it yellow. For me too kadrik make. Only send then a slide, do not forget! Here, from this party. The Sun after all therefrom. And now gentsianu.

Gentsiana - charming hand bells of the extended form with the violet-dark blue petals gradually brightening to the middle of a deep perfect bowl, and nearby turned yellow flowers ruty, and is directly dazzling burnt zveroboj. In depth gentsiany for me patiently posed pchelozhuk. Red with the black.

- Well have gone. Catch up. Here somewhere the footpath should be, search. Look near to archoj. They are wild boars have worn. And we with the son. Shepherds here do not go - abruptly. And thanks God. When cattle graze - is not present is worse. They after all do not know a measure. It is necessary to change pastures, and they povadjatsja on one place, and give. And to the son, know, something does not carry with Mnemozinami …

He continued to speak, not turning around at all, not being interested in my reaction, and I, having started to get used to the position, looked round about all growing interest and when met any interesting flower, a blade, and even a bug, quickly photographed, the blessing that rings have been constantly screwed. Kreps though spoke almost not stopping, however all noticed and suddenly, having interrupted the monologue, has looked back, when I once again photographed something, and, as always is loud, have told:

- What for you photograph so much? Slides be going to to speculate?

I was struck dumb from unexpectedness, and he looked at me and looked forward to hearing.

- What means to speculate? - There was I at last, not in forces even to realise, that he meant.

Kreps has understood, it is probable, that has gone too far, and for the first time I have heard in its voice an easy shade izvinitelnosti:

- Yes now many speculate. Who than. Here I also speak …

I have not had time to tell anything in the justification of modern mankind, yes after all Krepsu it and was not necessary. Panting, it rose uphill is unceasing and, not stopping but only translating breath, continued to develop a new theme.

- Who than speculates! And butterflies for money sell. Here them also becomes ever less … Opp!

It was suddenly straightened, has waved the mighty hand in which strong held a white muslin net in diameter at least in half-metre, nasazhennyj on a stick not less than two metres in length, and I have seen, that the first met by us Apollonius has disappeared in a bottomless muslin. Kreps has easy stopped, has pulled out from a lateral bag a paper bag, has developed it, has then got from a net the magnificent butterfly seeming absolutely small in its brown exposed to the wind ruchishche, has compressed, obviously, shaggy little body so, that "spirit" Apolloniusa has immediately dissipated in the cloudless sky, has accurately laid trupik in a package, the package has cleaned in a box, a box - in a bag and has looked round in search of new victims. My indignation, naturally, has reached a limit, but uncontrollable interest to strange this person at the same time grew in me. Whence it undertook such? The obvious contradiction was in all its shape and that he spoke, and in its acts, and in reaction to my words … And in the end of the ends unless I have any right …

- The novel Yanovich, - has begun I, - and you … your trade … you too the entomologist?

The giant has sighed, with any shade of grief has looked at me, has then turned, has walked further uphill and at last has told:

- No, I on a speciality the chemist. Now on pension left. And in general - the chemistry … And lesovodom was before. So the destiny has developed, that … O-opp!

It has again waved a net, but has missed the mark and immediately, being justified, has looked back on me:

- Far flied. You will make nothing. Here abruptly, it was possible to break. But anything, we further. Further will be more. See, here is still Apolloniusy, and there already is not present. They are gradually deduced. At first there, and now here, as I spoke to you.

«Well-well, - I have thought, - we will look. If so will go further, here again you catch all».

We have got out of a thicket of bushes and archi and stood on an open slope with high - to a belt and above - a grass. Unlike Slope Maksimova here was less inflorescences of a wild onion, but any high cereals similar to a rye, already ripened both dried up until white grew, and this site of a slope reminded Russian field, only with notable enough inclination. Surprisingly beautiful. Also it was visible in the distance and hardly below Slope Maksimova, and on the other hand on horizon snow peaks rose in a smoke. Flied much bojaryshnits, and here and there on a slope, apparently, planned and Apolloniusy though now I would not like that they came nearer to us. Ahead and above "rye" came to an end, there began very seductive raznotrave, and picturesque stones were piled up, and here and there trees archi densely turned green, easy yellowish foam feruly appeared. My disappointment almost absolutely has settled, and though I still sighed about the Dense Glade, I liked this slope more and more.

Kreps has again walked forward, slowly, but tirelessly.

- There know, why Apolloniusov did not become, where we have met? The rain has beaten. Probably, even the hailstones were yesterday. And here thickets more densely, was where to hide. And many the new were deduced directly today, I have told to you, that here they happen later.

- And at your son from what the hobby for butterflies has begun? - I have asked.

- At school still. A class in the eighth. Has found on an attic of a box with butterflies which I in a youth collected. Has become interested. I supported interest. Well then biofak. And now … Now it on sailing vessels the biggest expert at us, know?

It has stopped and with pride has looked at me.

- Yes I after all even in the book quoted it, - I have told. - it in Yerevan at meeting the report did, very much it was pleasant to me. It it the first has called us not only to protect butterflies, but also to plant, correctly?

Person Krepsa is direct on eyes has brightened up. But he has told nothing, has turned and has walked again. However I, apparently, almost felt as a skin, how from its big heavy figure blows now on me as goodwill.

- Look, what beautiful flower, - has told it suddenly, having stopped and waiting for me. Is espartset, it here such large. Photograph, it is pleasant to you. And caterpillars, look. Will photograph? Annulate kokonoprjad. Apolloniusov will be here much, I promise to you. And above, maybe, and Mnemozin we will meet.

10.

It has appeared the rights. There have not passed also a half an hour after our short stop on the brink "rye" fields as we have come to be in such magic place, that memoirs on the first visiting of Slope Maksimova have been superseded by a powerful stream of new impressions. I thought, that is stronger than that I have already tested together with Igor, be simple cannot. But it has appeared, can. Probably, any new layer of my subconsciousness has been mentioned. I again felt in the seventh sky with happiness though not Igor Maksimov, my brother on spirit was my guide this time, and the person essentially other. But from it it seemed even more interestingly.

First, Apolloniusov here was much more, than on Slope Maksimova. If there it was simultaneously possible to see the greatest two-three here they planned in tens. This set of rare, unique butterflies disappearing all over the world made impression of the present miracle. I recollected liked since the childhood, full romanticists Jack Londona's stories, and in particular gold diggers. What narrated about the people wandering in search of precious metal, so as if not riches material were searched by them, and something another, that is the Miracle! Because so Jack Londona's stories are close to much, that the main thing in them not thirst of a profit, not gold searches.

And here at me now at the sight of such set Apolloniusov - those butterflies of whom I dreamt so much and could not find in any way, - there was such feeling as if I after long, painful and fruitless searches and wanderings have suddenly got to a valley where huge gold nuggets in tens lay underfoot.

Yes, I have not betrayed the Dream. At least I believed in it. Itself has found a way, though and by means of kind people - Maksimova, and now here and Krepsa. Has put, of course, not in butterflies. After all all begins with the small. And the main thing here - honesty before by itself …

Everyone who has not betrayed the dream who received though time such award, will understand me. And I again stood as the happy boy on roughly blossoming slope, looked at perfect butterflies who flied around. And though should pay attention to the high heavy person which swung the huge we dodge a net, and then pushed divine Apolloniusov, deprived of a life, in a bag, but understood: here and actually it is a lot of them, much, it, of course, will not catch all. And besides it for certain happened here and earlier, and Apolloniusy, despite it, here, fly. And it is a lot of.

But it first. And secondly, this slope was simply magnificent in itself, even without Apolloniusov. All the line on the ascending proceeded: at first, on a way to Slope Maksimova, I have felt myself as if in paradise, but it has appeared only the Threshold to the higher good fortune of the Glade. Now it turned out, what even magnificence of Slope Maksimova was not a limit. Because this slope - I have immediately christened its "Eldorado" - it has appeared more richly. On that Glade there was trampled down enough track which tourists and shepherds used, there grazed cattle. Here the path was hardly appreciable, and as has repeated Kreps and as it, possibly, and was, wild boars and the Novel Yanovich with the son used this track, and cattle here did not graze, therefore has saved "Eldorado" a protogenic charm.

As to plants there was here a present botanical garden of local flora, and plants, judging by their kind, fine felt. An emerald the high, magnificent, fresh thickets which have not dried out yet after a yesterday's rain feruly and prangosa … turned green

- More cautiously with prangosom, - has warned Kreps. - the Bad grass, poisonous. Try not to concern, after a rain it is especially dangerous. And that it mahaona is pleasant to caterpillars? Smelly prangos, all apartment provonjal …

- And how your wife concerns "nursery" of caterpillars? - I have asked, admiring nevertheless a poisonous grass.

- Suffers, that to it to do. At me and the truth "zoo". And there's nothing to be done? It is necessary. By the way, how ferulu to distinguish from prangosa, know? At feruly vaginas at the basis of leaves, it is a grass safe. The main thing, prangosa be afraid.

Really, from ukropnyh leaflets prangosa there was a sharp specific smell, but it and gave a sharpness to sensations. Chartreuse tiny florets prangosa, collected, as well as at feruly, in branchy, from apart reminding clubs of translucent foam of an inflorescence, expired diamond droplets of nectar, involving numerous winged brotherhood - flies, bees, wasps literally. Hardly more low, in gleams of these tropical thickets, very original fleshy stalks ochitka, covered with short peaked leaves, as if the scales of zelenovato-pink colour slightly touched by yellowness rose. Tops of stalks terminated in terry is gentle-pink inflorescences on which also flies too had a seat, and pchelozhuki, but, the main thing, butterflies, and first of all Apolloniusy. Ochitok generously gives the leaves on eating up to caterpillars Parnassiusov, and flowers kindly gives for nectar and pollination gathering to adult butterflies.

Then that there by large amethyst were shone - as well as on Slope Maksimova - inflorescences of a wild onion … Was here and pale yellow, cream skabioza, and mentioned espartset with inflorescences-candles of zheltovato-crimson colour, and nut - the wild peas which have drawn recently steadfast attention of agriculturists as a magnificent fodder plant for cattle, giving at the same time suitable for the use in food to suffering mankind seeds. It is said that these seeds in a condition there where it is necessary to replace peas cultural. And that unlike peas cultural hardy wild nut is rather drought-resistant that once again proves is especially valuable how it is important to save all genofund of wild plants in all their violent variety …

There was here a set and other grasses blossoming or already ottsvetshih, to list all it is impossible, but in any way it was necessary to pay attention besides on high ruby, penetrated by solar beams sultans of rhubarb Maksimovicha surrounded dry, too shone on sun, sometimes absolutely pink huge leaves which was here even more, than on Slope Maksimova. Also the grass which the Novel Yanovich has defined as "katran" extremely effectively looked: high enough bushes covered with large flat fruits, reminding whether buttons, whether pelmeni … Also have been occupied these «paradise kushchi» not only Apolloniusami and bojaryshnitsami, but also set of other butterflies - zheltushkami, shashechnitsami, perlamutrovkami, melanargijami, golubjankami, and also representatives of other groups of a class shestinogih: prjamokrylymi (grasshoppers and kobylki), pereponchatokrylymi (wasps, bees, equestrians), dvukrylymi (flies), poluzhestkokrylymi (bugs), zhestkokrylymi (every possible bugs-chernotelki, zhuzhelitsy, ladybirds, pchelozhuki, naryvniki, kravchiki, bronzovki, zlatki, men with a big moustache), dragonflies …

Especially was small kobylok, or as has named them Kreps, saranchukov much. They settled down on leaves of rhubarb Maksimovicha, on prangose, on ferule ranks, columns and is simple crowds, basking in the sun and, obviously, discussing the affairs, and were scattered every which way shrapnelju with rustle and a crash when we disturbed them.

The vegetation here reached to us a belt, and even to shoulders, we went as if in any inclined green sea.

All is learnt in comparison, and I felt, that never before did not meet such violence of a life, such various and harmonious ensemble live and, maybe, never any more I will not meet. And not in that was has put, that there is any limit to a variety and violence of grassy jungle, and that hardly the person can test two times in a life such completeness of sensations: happiness of finding of Dream. And hope acknowledgement: fidelity to Dream is remunerated.

Those circumstances at which I in a life have met for the first time Apollos, were rather remarkable. I was once again convinced: Apollo - a symbol also is, of course, worthy Dreams. And giant Kreps was represented to me now by the kind guide, a conductor …

Whether it is possible to find two times in a life a Valley Full of Nuggets? Theoretically, possibly, it is possible. But in second time it always happens not how in the first.

11.  

Kreps meanwhile continued to speak, and I have learnt, that it catches all successively Apolloniusov that the son could prove in the dissertation by means of the dried butterflies, that versions which meet on this richest slope, not is different kinds, namely versions though they strongly enough differ from each other - on degree pochernenija wings at females, by quantity of red stains …

- See, it-showed me the next victim, - here time, two, three … on seven red stains on each pair of wings at a female, and at some only on five, and there are such, at which nine. And black here, pay attention, much. Is directly absolutely black. To me home will come, look.

He spoke it is tone of the researcher, and there was in him a noble research passion, but I would like, naturally, any by to protect butterflies. However, I did not know, how it to make, and only rejoiced to each miss of a voluminous net which reminded a bottomless predatory mouth. «Microreserve! - I have recollected. - saving idea for the nature».

- The novel Yanovich, - has begun I cautiously, - as you think … Here, for example, it would be possible to organise microreserve. What do you think of it?

- Fine I concern. It is excellent idea. We thought for a long time with the son. Reserve small. Here only who will protect? O-opp! Look, very beautiful female. Time, two, three … Nine stains. And black it is a lot of. A good version.

I have approached and have admired really magnificent female whom it showed, holding in brown clumsy fingers.

- Idea excellent, - it continued, with a crunch squeezing grudku beauties, hiding it in a paper bag and cleaning in a bag. - and on this slope it would be possible to put below a fence, and all. That though cattle did not graze, and that suddenly to shepherds in a head will climb up. Though here abruptly, and a grass see what. And tourists that did not go.

- And collectors, - I have added.

- Yes, correctly, - has agreed Kreps. - And that Kiriljuk learns about this slope, God forbid … O-opp! - having rushed for flying by Apolloniusom and having swung a net, it has not broken nearly downwards. - Far flied. Not to get. - he regretfully looked after the leaving butterfly.

- The novel Yanovich, - has not sustained I. - but after all … What sense to describe versions if you catch all of them? Versions are good, when they exist in the nature and if they only in your collection remain what advantage?

Strangely enough, the giant has not chided me immediately for impudence. It even as if it is guilty it was looked down and has told:

- Whether see, they already practically have postponed all jaichki. So no trouble there is no that I their catching. And jaichki to look it is necessary. On ochitke. Small such, white. Hardly it is more makovogo than grain.

And it has begun to look out jaichki, has soon found and has called up me.

- Here, look. This egg Apolloniusa. Photograph. Can? Increases will suffice?

I have screwed two complete sets of rings. Directly on a pink petal ochitka the white round button with vmjatinkoj in the middle has been strongly pasted. It was clear, that future gusenichka grows ripe in tiny, but strong enough this refuge curtailed klubochkom - the same as ripens malek fishes in a berry as arises, at first similar to a tadpole, then on fish, then on hvostatuju jashcherku with it is disproportionate the big head, then on a cub of an animal with a huge cranium, the person … Germinal egg - a nature cradle, «all live - from egg» … the Tiny, hardly visible white button - and «flying only in solar weather» the perfect butterfly. Invisible with open years jajtsekletka - and the person. Begins so similar …

Kreps meanwhile, hardly having waited when I will finish photographing of so small object, has snatched out a flower with jaichkom from under my nose and has instantly hidden it in a jar from under mayonnaise.

- What for? - I have bewildered asked.

- And I will grow up a caterpillar at home, and then here I will let out next spring.

«Well, you will let out!» - I have thought, but have not told, and only with doubt have shaken a head.

- You do not represent, that will be here in a month, - has told Kreps, obviously having noticed my doubt, but not having taken offence. - from this good fortune remains nothing, all will burn out, will dry up, the wind will break and will carry the rests of plants. And this ochitok will be broken, and it will appear jaichko it is not known where. Most likely will be lost. And I will save it. Next spring ochitki again will grow, when rains will begin. On them I also will let out gusenichek. So they also will be saved. After all in the nature know as? From hundred jaichek Apolloniusa it is saved unless one-two! Eggs some still in a stage perish, and what hatch, whether many to live ochitka will reach? And to adult caterpillars to survive not so it is simple. Birds, ants, zhuzhelitsy, whether yes it is not enough! And then equestrians here fly - black-red such, I will show to you of these gangsters. Infect caterpillars with the eggs - the caterpillar will pupate, and from a doll not Apollonius will take off, and the equestrian. And even a little at once. The same and with aleksanorami occurs. How much time such happened even in my "zoo". Think, why one butterfly so much jaichek postpones? Everyone on neskolku tens! Why? That is why, that the survival percent is extremely low. If to arrange here reserve, that is the sense a little bit to take care of them. To look after and plant.

It has turned and again slowly began to clamber upwards, continuing, however, to develop a theme.

- Think, why some collectors of the most rare butterflies catch pomnogu? It to spit on everything, to it only money …

Bitterly having grunted, it has stopped, has taken rest, has then got into the bag, has got and has swallowed the next tablet.

- And we, for example, for one salary always lived. And on my pension.

It again has suddenly stopped and has attentively looked at me:

- You that think: if I give someone the butterfly or a bug money I take? If only books be exchanged for butterflies, it yes. Otherwise after all them you will not get, especially old. Now books write all to a clod not laziness. And earlier those wrote, who actually took a great interest, to whom the science is important.

And it has again turned and has again walked uphill. I wanted was to take offence, but have changed the mind.

12.

Yes, not so it was simple, this Kreps. However, as well as each person of what I was once again convinced. After all as it has not liked me at first! And here it was necessary to have patience and get accustomed …

As I have been keen on a slope "Eldorado", Apolloniusami and botanical paradise, however with indefatigable, and is faster even growing interest listened and got accustomed to the new acquaintance. That I saw it as «the mechanical person», egotsentrika, not listening to others, the fan to order and subordinate, the proprietor, the murderer of butterflies, absolutely ruthless, irritating also the categoricalness. And that, on the contrary, it seemed the big child, very kind, in something defenceless, helpless, lost even somehow pathologically, to self-oblivion liking the son.

From time to time I tried to enquire about its own hobby for biology - I was amazed with its erudition: he, for example, knew names of all plants which in such set here grew. As to biology of butterflies he told such things about which I before concept had no. It has told, for example, that caterpillars Apolloniusa for the night hide under stones and okuklivajutsja in stones. That winter jaichki, instead of dolls - they with the son have established it precisely and have corrected Kurta Lamperta which considered, that dolls winter. And still such detail of behaviour: the caterpillar, having eaten leaves ochitka, creeps on a stone, progretyj the sun, sometimes directly heated, and is heated: warming up is necessary to it for this purpose, it is obvious, that there was a process of digestion of food is better. Because, possibly, it and black - that as it is necessary to get warm. It heats up to what temperature! He has told and how time and again observed air fights mahaonov and especially aleksanorov - it is obvious, because of females, - the present fights when males fly against each other, trying to bring down the contender and to seize a female. «The consciousness at butterflies, certainly, is not present but how you explain such here tournaments? He-rhetorically questioned. - and after all as fight - pieces of wings fly!»

Still he told, that caterpillars aleksanorov are similar on caterpillars mahaonov, only they as though faded. Why? It is obvious, because unlike mahaonovyh eat at night. Therefore they so are difficult for finding. And not prangos they eat, and ferulu. Though at first as soon as will be deduced from jaichek, gusenichki dark, they only then fade. Why? Because the female postpones jaichki on ottsvetshie dark inflorescences feruly. Also chooses for some reason such plants which shake on stones over a precipice. When the female, postponing jaichko, hangs in air, trembling wings, it is very beautiful. And gusenichki at first eat on light, and then pass to a night way of life more and more. okuklivajutsja they under stones, and some lay there till three years. Why? Obviously, just in case, to provide possible adverse conditions of a climate next year: one will be lost, but others will survive, later. And here at Apolloniusov, on the contrary, dolls lay very little - butterflies are quickly deduced from them …

Yes, it was the true, interested and serious observer, he lived entirely in this world, being given to it without the rest, it seemed to me, as he perceives the son as though through a prism of this world, and in it is in supervision over butterflies, in searches and solutions of secrets of their life and behaviour - they, apparently, were especially close, making as though a single whole. Its hobby was much bigger, rather than that is considered to be hobby. It was his life. The son and butterflies - here than it lived now.

I tried to find out and how the hobby of the father became a trade of the son (or on the contrary?) as the son has come to what carries away the father how it became and for it such important.

From the childhood the Kreps-senior, appears, liked biology, in him, obviously, has been put in pawn and started to sprout grain of the passionate researcher of the nature already. But it and could not is definitive dorazvitsja - serious circumstances of a life have prevented. And that, maybe, in a condition would be to stand firm flexible, its character - rectilinear and rigid has not sustained. Also does not remain already forces and possibilities to aspire to Dream …

And here now in the son it as though has anew begun a life - what it was not possible to go through in own youth worries. What could not carry out itself owing to vital circumstances, it carries out now through the son. Comes true now (though and with the big delay) its own Dream, good luck of the son - its good luck. Success of the son - the award to the father for fidelity to Dream contrary to all! Here how long it was necessary to wait to this person before it has found Apollos …

Yes, actually, not such it and the rare case, thought I, trying to comprehend that has understood. As often we try to repeat the life in children! Well it? Probably, both it is good, and it is bad. Well therefore, it is obvious, that the Dream comes true, comes true nevertheless - the mission of the person, let late, let only via another comes true thereby, but comes true! Badly that in a heat we forget often: our children are nevertheless not we, each of them - the independent person, full, it can have the Dream which is distinct from ours, and it has the right to it. And we blinded, with the rush …

But here, at Krepsov, it seemed to me, there was a happy case. Has coincided!

Subsequently I have learnt, how much and the Kreps-junior has been in turn keen: every year it made on neskolku trips with the research purpose, it proceeded own feet in krossovkah and gym shoes Tien Shan, Pamir, and the deaf persons who have been not mastered still corners literally. It also has made, it appears, many opening, and let are difficult to compare them on scales with opening, for example, the Groom-grzhimajlo or Przhevalsky, but not in same have put. The son, as well as the father, was the keen person in the best sense of this word, and, of course, it followed motto Linneja …

Both here that it is even more and more I understood: we with the Krepsom-senior - as it is paradoxical, as it is surprising! - too brothers on spirit, too colleagues, and both are happy now, on this roughly blossoming slope, in a round dance of solar butterflies, and for Krepsa a slope "Eldorado" - too a Valley Full of Nuggets!

Here also there was me clear an amazing endurance of the old man! Sixty four years to it, komplektsija rather heavy, illnesses, apparently, sufficed (after all how much time throughout our ascension he swallowed of tablets!), some days lasted at it hungry "diet", but it went and went, clambered uphill uncontrollably and waved a net, not breaking nearly in a precipice, and spoke, spoke, too not getting tired. He has felt, that we colleagues, he even and has told suddenly: «I speak much because I see: you absorb all». As I was glad also because, that have constrained myself first minutes of acquaintance, have not insulted, have not slipped away from it though I very much would like … Here for attentiveness, for tolerance there was I now, means, is twice rewarded: giant Kreps has presented to me "Eldorado" and.

However, what it the old man? He, as well as I, felt here the young man, the boy even.

13.

And then we have met Mnemozin. Getting all above, we have appeared eventually in even more dense, than earlier, higher thickets prangosa, feruly, almost hiding us. But here already among the dark, sated greens have appeared eremurusy - long torches, regal plants of mountains. These huge live torches reached two-three metres of height, and thus each of hundreds tsvetkov one inflorescence was perfection. It under the form reminded a lily - rozovato-lilac, graceful, refined, exhaling easy aroma of freshness, - and as a whole eremurus, appear, radiated optimism, vital force, reliability. Amazed, that this most powerful, strong green stalk and heavy weight of colours have grown so quickly - for a month-other. Then they can die off and dry up, preliminary having given seeds, and the next year from an underground live root again vymahnet upwards a powerful stalk - as a symbol of an eternal celebration of a life here, in severe spurs of mountains. Eremurus robustus - so its name in Latin sounds. Robustus means "powerful" …

And in this kingdom of violent and damp greens now was not Apolloniusov, did not become almost absolutely and bojaryshnits, but it is direct on an openwork interlacing of leaves prangosa and feruly I have suddenly seen the big butterfly easy sitting with spread wings. It has seemed to me silver. It was Mnemozina. Mnemozina - the goddess of memory at ancient Greeks. And more one representative of sort Parnassiusov from family of Sailing vessels. On its light with a black pattern translucent wings was not red. To That it also name still Black Apollo. It too is brought in the new edition of the Red book of the USSR and protected now almost all over the world.

- Something is impossible at Rostislava with Mnemozinami, - with bitterness has continued my companion an old theme and has dexterously picked up a net the silver butterfly as soon as I have had time to make two shots. - I will plant it in a corf, see, I do not squeeze to it grudku. Here so, ostorozhnenko, in a bag. It is necessary to find only to it now the groom. Let walk in a corf, let posterity will give. She is a female, you have understood, yes? At it on the paunch end kovshik, as at a dredge. It jaichki in the earth postpones …

Now Kreps again was as if the boy, and any aggression, no categoricalness existed in him - only parental concern on the person, almost tenderness.

- Understand, we yet did not find caterpillars Mnemozin, I spoke to you already. And anything about them we do not know, - it continued, sharing with me the care. - the Groom-grzhimajlo writes about them, the truth, but we doubt, we the Groom-grzhimajlo have already corrected about Apolloniusov. And at Lamperta too errors happen, but not in that even business, and is simple suddenly at sew versions Mnemozin the biology? But while it turns out nothing at us. You, for example, have noticed, that there was no butterfly more low, I attentively looked! Have appeared only here. And below after all ochitka as much as necessary. Why? Perhaps below a climate for them not approaching? Or still that? What is it there at you? Again a female? Give, give it here, it is necessary for me …

- And here, look, the man with a big moustache on ferule! Look, what handsome man. Well photograph! And then too to me give, look do not miss, as zlatku! It ferulnyj the man with a big moustache, very rare. I promised to one Czech … And and male Mnemoziny flies. More cautiously, only do not frighten away, do not move! O-oppp …

And it has snatched out at me from under a nose one more Mnemozinu and has quickly thrown in morilku the man with a big moustache whom I, the truth, have had time to embody.

Not having reached top - to it remains metres hundred on the abrupt slope which entirely has grown not only grasses, but also a low bush from which trees archi here and there rose, - we have turned to the right and have got on a mad steepness, clinging to stones, stalks and roots to reduce a way to that sedlovinki where Kreps promised to me of caterpillars mahaona. Even at me, to tell the truth, sometimes knees shivered, but after all I am much younger than it and I go in for sports, and it obstinately climbed and climbed ahead and managed to burst sometimes in a short monologue from which clearly followed, that though to its body and it is difficult, however the spirit is absolutely vigorous. Yes, I saw before myself truly happy person and again found true acknowledgement: the amazing potential is shown, when the person is given to that it really interests.

mahaona on sedlovinke we have found caterpillars.

- But after all I to you also did not guarantee, you remember? - Has told Kreps, being justified before me.

Also it is necessary to add, that before it we meticulously investigated of not less hour thickets prangosa on sedlovinke, and the heavy elderly person with boyish energy bent, looked sideways, from below, moved apart poisonous plant branches though caterpillars mahaona, apparently, were not necessary to him (mahaon here not such a rarity). Perhaps, for any of jobs of the son that fact would be useful, what caterpillars have been found in the first of June? Or did it the Novel Yanovich only for me? Now I think, that the last is quite possible and even most likely.

The vegetation here was a little bit another, than in "Eldorado" and on Slope Maksimova. It is surprising, as the structure of grasses and in general all biotsenoz from position of a slope concerning the sun from humidity, from that varies, the slope to winds is how much opened. Here was drier, more sun, and the vegetation has got more steppe character: in set the sage, a camomile, chabrets grew gorchak, mint, zizifora, one more version zveroboja. Medical grasses all entirely, and Kreps with pleasure has told me it and ordered to dig chabretsa because it helps at ORZ to which I, unfortunately, am subject.

The habit to order has again returned to it, and it was aggravated with weariness. Day tended by the evening, and we after all so much already polazili on mountains, but the considerable way to highway, the truth, downhill still was coming.

- Still a good bush, break it! And that break, - it gave «valuable instructions». - And a sage tear, too a grass good. Heart as at you, does not knock? And it what for tear? What for to you zizifora?

But I tore ziziforu because always admired with its delightful aroma, tore not from medical reasons and to put in a case with linen. Also tore so that not to destroy all bush, not to ruin the main thing - a root. From everyone on a branch.

At last we left on soil road, and when on roadsides of its steel to meet kurtinkami charming dark blue cornflowers, the Novel Yanovich has begun to collect carefully a bouquet for the wife. But it tore them too so that not to destroy kurtinku entirely, and it is obligatory to leave its part - on divorce.

14.  

During a long way back to highway I again developed a theme about microreserves, and here we have reached full unity of sights. In what an essence of microreserves, these live and whenever possible untouched islets of the nature?

First, they remain not somewhere in remote distances, and near to us, in the neighbourhood with job, with habitation, with our daily life. Not cultivated, brushed and pomaded, "humanised" flower beds, squares and parks, namely untouched, protogenic islets of the nature at ocean of our civilisation. Natural. Live.

- Know, how much here buses happens in the summer, especially in the days off? - Spoke Kreps. - Tens! And in this area are going to to make the "cultivated" zone of rest. Well if the culture, but after all not culture will be, and arbours-shops, booths different, bottles, pieces of paper, cans, bags from under milk. By nature unless remains? Some slopes to leave in inviolability it is necessary! You say, that I catch much. So after all it is fast in general anything in the nature does not remain, so let though in a collection will be!

Secondly, statement of a question on preservation of "life islets» in scale state will clear, maybe, respect for them at the majority that will bring invaluable advantage. All. After all the respect begins with the small.

Thirdly, to care of the nature in the conditions of microreserve should not only official bodies, but also each of us. And it, seems to me, will give the chance to everyone to show the good initiative.

Fourthly, useful knowledge to receive through care and respect is easier. And whether are capable to impart love to the nature biology textbooks? Here, on «a life islet», it will be necessary to grow fond of it - enough at least postranstvovat in a jungle with the camera. Exciting secrets will open one for another.

Fifthly, to us, probably, it would be possible to prevent mass and inevitable  destruction of many «smaller our brothers» and at least partly to save a genofund.

Sixthly … Yes after all our life without the nature - not a life!

In these questions we with Krepsom were unanimous. But here in what our sights radically, so it in art questions have dispersed.

Has begun with a photo. From the very beginning I, not submitting to its instructions, looked for an unexpected foreshortening, photographing the butterfly or a flower, and it expressed the active bewilderment, insisted on that, as that and another need to be photographed, being guided by a rule «to show the validity such what it is». I minded, saying, that the simple, face-to-face foreshortening is is not so unique a correct sight, that the butterfly, the flower, any other live or lifeless object of the validity is diverse what to look at all around only from one position and in strictly certain scale does not mean at all «objectively to reflect the validity». But it was useless it to overpersuade. Not pressing in «philosophical empirei», it swept aside all my constructions and again confirmed: it is necessary to remove so that the size of the butterfly and character of a pattern on its wings that immediately it was possible to define were necessarily visible, it concerns what family, a sort, a kind …

- And how an aesthetics? - I persistently asked.

- At what here an aesthetics? - My opponent aggressively minded.

- But after all an art photo - an art form, - I confirmed. - the photographer if it the artist, cannot be indifferent. Even if it also does not put to itself(himself) such purpose all the same involuntarily passes the relation to removed object. And if it only registers, its such relation - indifference. Any object can be removed in one million variants - here both a foreshortening, and a background, both illumination, and model position. In a choice it is unique correct from the point of view of the photographer of a variant and its relation, its taste, ability, knowledge of object and technics of shooting, mood - yes set of components are shown! And it also is art. That artist who registers the validity flat, habitual everything, bored, unequivocal, with one only positions is bad. The true artist always tries to find unusual in usual, usual in unusual, it clears up imagination, awakes feelings and thought, it expands and deepens our representations about the validity, it opens new, rather the reverse. The artist does a life interesting!

Kreps argued with me, he did not consider a photo as art, however, as well as new painting, music … As well as in many other things here it was extremely categorical, conservative and in hearts has declared even:

- Any this botched work from Levitan to Sarjana me does not interest! Music modern too - continuous trick to nobody necessary. The deceit is everything, nonsense! Here old music or old painting - an another matter. And the photo should reflect fairly the validity, that's all!

But I have concerned its words easy. Because tested extreme gratitude that it has made for me, having presented "Eldorado" and those unforgettable minutes which we have spent there. It is More than that: it was interesting to me to listen to it, and it is especially interesting just because its opinion dispersed from mine. I have thought even here that: the person so long and painfully going to the Dream, now has been so absorbed by her, is so captivated, that tested original jealousy of a subject of the Dream and of all around. It is So much times stumbling on a way of that he only was not afraid now …

And here I remained alone with myself.

Maxims and Kreps have made the noble business and have left. At first the first has left, and then and the second too was excused with me, taking the solemn promise to visit at it on a visit: «And if want, in general get over to me from your hotel». At last I could comprehend easy all and already in loneliness travel in a jungle and Slope Maksimova, and "Eldorado". Difficultly and to pass, as I would like it and as I was - especially now - it is grateful to the conductors.

Day of a meeting with Krepsom - the longest day which has ended in dense blackness of southern night, - became the best day of my original trip - expeditions behind Dream. When I have begun to count up, we with Krepsom have overcome what distance, has counted not less than thirty kilometres from which there is more than half we clambered on mountains in dense tenacious thickets of grasses and among stones. Loading was enough serious and for me what to speak about how the Novel Yanovich has got tired. Certainly, we were late for last bus, and passing cars in darkness here usually do not stop, as drivers saw in beams of headlights of the huge person moreover with the longest stick from a net … To Tashkent was about hundred kilometres, to pass on foot this distance we certainly did not hope, zamertsala lodging for the night prospect somewhere under a bush in steppes, but thought on rather possible meeting with a scorpion, a phalanx, karakurtom called not enough enthusiasm.

However I was not left still by feeling of indispensable good luck. And it is correct: soon near us have braked "Zhigulis". The young dark-haired guy, the Uzbek At the wheel sat, he has easy invited us to have a seat, having told, that goes just to Tashkent. I have sat down on a back seat, the Novel Yanovich near to the driver. Throughout all way Kreps continued to speak, mainly about local mountains which it proceeded up and down. And when I managed to insert a word in the end of a way, to express gratitude to the owner of the car and as a sign of gratitude to present the card, it was found out, that he in absentia knows me, at us is, it appears, the general acquaintances in Moscow. And itself Batyr though also it come from Tashkent, however in Moscow studies at culture Institute. Here they, modern communications, the world here is how became close"! And here what coincidence happens, when you search for the Apollo.

I have reached the hotel at late night - the hotel was small, departmental (has arranged me in it Igor), gate for the night were closed - it was necessary to get through a fence. I have got tired, of course, mortally and was disconnected there and then, have hardly got under a blanket, but, strangely enough, have woken up with the first beams of the sun, having overslept only hour four, and felt fine.

And again the blue sunny day began, and I again hurried on appointment. With the nature? With a youth? With dream? Or it is simple with itself?

I felt myself the richest of people - the whole two Dense Glades were now at my order, and any sixth feeling prompted, that this time nothing will prevent appointment. Unless only an easy headache - an echo of yesterday's weariness.

So it also was. Nobody has prevented.

I will not describe two days of the fascinated wanderings - I think, that it is easy to imagine them from this, that I have already told. Certainly, it would be possible to speak more and more about the surprising world of live beings which sometimes so clearly show similarity to our, human world, general our relationship but which nevertheless are infinitely far from us, live absolutely differently, store infinite set of unsolved secrets, awake imagination, push on comparisons and force on itself, and in general for the whole world, to look sometimes from an unexpected side.

In the second day I have reached top which we have not reached with Krepsom, and have immediately received the award: there flied magnificent mahaony. It was possible to see and photograph also the rare aleksanora. And in general the chain of continuous luck proceeded.

And here what thought has come to to me mind. The microreserve can exist not only in the form of a live, untouched corner - the Islet of the Nature among a coming civilisation. It is very important to save such microreserve in the soul.

It is difficult to pass satisfaction and pleasure which I tested now, after Slope Maksimova, "Eldorado", Tops … It was possible to visit and ancient Samarkand - reserve of human culture. There was I and on a visit at Krepsa …

So, all it was, so, is with me now for ever. But …

There were few hours in Tashkent, the return ticket to Moscow laid at me in a pocket, and as flying away time came nearer, I in increasing frequency recollected George Petrovicha Gritsenko's offer. Hissar mountains. Two mountain reserves. «The most effective kinds can be there at this time, - the Novel Yanovich Kreps has told, having learnt that I wish to go. - there, by the way, still nobody caught». - «And Apollos … that is Parnassiusy there can be?» - «still what!»

… My body, inactive and weakened in a plane armchair, came nearer to Moscow, and the soul already spread wings …

The chapter the fourth

Dark blue Glade

1.

- Gate Tamerlana, - the chief of expedition George Petrovich Gritsenko has told. - We go to collars Tamerlana.

Once - six centuries ago - here there was Timur with the uncountable army, and now vigorously rolled on highway our old bus "Kuban". On the right, not far, advancing us, an arrow the long train … flied

To me George Petrovicha's words were remembered, this instant therefore especially what exactly then only I have really realised was remembered, that I go to expedition! Meal! Actually! Was not late.

After all at farewell in Tashkent ZHora - allow to name it now so because it my old acquaintance, the simple, good person and named it on expedition I so, - at farewell in Tashkent ZHora, looking at me and at the same time being thoughts, as always, somewhere else, in any far open space, has confirmed the invitation and has assured, that expedition will go not earlier than June, 18th and that I need to call numbers of 13th and if something changes he will call.

I called from Moscow not to 13th, but 12th, but could not phone - it was not on a place in a museum, - 13th could not phone on a code and early in the morning, but, being guided by any vague presentiments, nevertheless has reserved conversation through long-distance station. About nine mornings Moscow time the telephonist has informed, that under number nobody answers. I have asked to transfer on an hour. Without ten ten (on Tashkent time - without ten o'clock in the afternoon) I at last have heard far voice ZHory:

- Tomorrow we leave, in seven mornings. You understand, so it has turned out with car. The director to us …

Further something followed badly legible, and not important for me.

- And how I? - Only also there was I to ask.

- If you will be in time tomorrow to seven mornings, please. You understand, we …

- Kreps goes?

- No. And so to the people it is a lot of.

- And catch up with your car in a way I can? To intercept somewhere …

To catch up - is not present. It is a lot of flights by the plane, it is possible to be in time …

- Well, I will try, - I have told and, not to lose time, have hung up immediately a tube.

Was three minutes to ten. It is collected nothing, it is necessary to take money in savings bank, it is not known still, when the plane. Fortunately, it was possible to phone quickly in the airport. Remains two flights to Tashkent: one in fourteen forty five, other night. On night not to be in time, means, it is necessary to fly to two forty five. As I was going to easily to myself to imagine. Left the house in ten thirty five. That is was going to for half an hour in expedition which went to novel places for twenty days.

And still savings bank.

And the ticket aboard the plane is not present.

And the electric train in the airport has appeared inconvenient - just barely enough.

But suddenly and it have cancelled.

The taxi did not come across. There were minutes.

Thanks God, in time has recollected: the bus-express train from underground "Kashirsky"! Was in time.

At the airport has immediately gone to the chief of transportations. It has appeared, to Tashkent it is a lot of empty seats …

In the half eleventh night on Tashkent time I was around Victor Maljasova's street, where veins Gritsenko with a family and where last time it was possible to me to be six years ago, before expedition to Syr-Darya. I was surrounded with full darkness - as to spite, something happens with an electricity that evening, and light was not in all area. As it is good, that I have had time to throw a pocket lantern in a backpack!

In house Gritsenko all already slept.

Strong grown old polkan (six years ago it there was a sheep-dog of a male in the prime of life) has learnt me, strangely enough. But deafeningly barked Smok - husky-teenager from which we only have been presented now each other by the sleepy chief of expedition. It seems, it was glad to me, and at light of a pocket lantern we have drunk in a garden on a familiar site a little dry wine. Me have for old time's sake put on a folding bed under an apple-tree from which small apples … were strewed

About eight mornings for us the bus has come.

Here so. Days has not passed after my call, and I from the Moscow apartment, it is possible even to tell - from bed, it was transferred for some thousand kilometres, has had time even to have a sleep under an apple-tree and now has safely sat down in the forwarding bus. And the backpack was with me with all cameras, objectives, films. Essential I like in Moscow would not forget anything. Whether well miracles?

To meet the people united with you by one interest, always pleasantly. Namely such went to expedition. And of them I was familiar for a long time with some. Botanik Elena Leonidovna Bogdanova who has become now by the candidate of sciences, the zoologist Belief Grigorevna, rather erudite woman, always in a course of novelties of the literature as was, as a rule, a subject of our conversations on last expedition; taksidermist (the manufacturer of stuffed animals) Tahir, all harmonous and suntanned as earlier, but … considerably become serious - the father of numerous family … Has grown for six years and daughter George Petrovicha Gritsenko, Olja became same harmonous and nice shestnadtsatiletnej the girl. With independent, but an affable smile Elena Alekseevna Zagorskaja, the geographer of expedition … has entered into the bus

Here so, meeting people after the big break, especially you start to realise time current. And its sense. What we from a life will take out? Results of the works - your trace in history of mankind and memoirs about gone through - a life trace of all in you. Here especially you start to understand fruitfulness, correctness of these two parties of life. Fruits of works. And particles of pleasure which you have managed to catch and leave. The rest - that we name vanity. A life waste, slag, anything. «There is only one invincible force in a life, and this force - Pleasure, - wise men of the East speak. - a life, all life of the Universe, always the statement. To build it is possible, only confirming».

All passes, persons and bodies grow old, sorrows are forgotten, carried away in a non-existence. And only one remains with the person - Pleasure. That Pleasure, that it has once brought another. And that which has managed to catch for herself.

… And with us went: the twelve years son of Belief Grigorevny, Olezhka - fair-haired, with a snub-nosed nouse-button, in the big dark glasses; artist Raphael (on June, 25th to it it was executed exactly thirty), average growth, thin, beautiful; Uzbek Mamura, the fun-loving long-haired girl who has brought with itself set of tomatoes and cucumbers, and, at last, driver Saidazim, the young and any roundish, soft guy, which person from time to time became absolutely children's … All us there were eleven. We should spend together at least weeks two. We already made the closed collective.

On a way have called in in house Tahira - with clay walls, a pise-walled small house in the heart of a court yard, set of children of different age … We were seen off by charming daughter Tahira, ten years' Firuza.

Then a heat, a dust, the dazzling sun in windows, chaos of forwarding things, and, at last, words ZHory:

- Gate Tamerlana …

After these words I at last have really realised, where I am. Still early yesterday easy slept in Moscow, not being going to anywhere. And here …

Again for Apollo? Has broken suddenly, at all not giving itself of the report what for, why … the Blessing that there was a possibility.

Yes, for Apollo! «There is only one invincible force in a life» …

So, what it was for expedition, what its problems?

The Tashkent museum of the nature as I already spoke, exists more than hundred years, and as each museum such, it is obliged to fill up the funds annually. According to ZHory, regular expeditions will be organised by a museum almost in all areas of Central Asia, not only in Uzbekistan. The Entomologichesky regular collection of a museum is especially rich - it switches on practically all groups of insects and that is unique in Central Asia. In it the big merit of my acquaintances, skilled entomologists. Is here and rather rich collection of tropical kinds collected by enthusiasts of the past. Especially stun, of course, butterflies: dark blue, perlamutrovo-blue morfo from Latin America. And the big green bugs from island Kalimantan.

Now workers of a museum conduct the big practical job: the purpose of the first expedition for me in Syr-Darya tugai, for example, was to study insects - opylitelej tugajnyh plants to learn, what of them can pollinate bahchevye cultures if them begin to grow up in those places.

Studying of geographical, geological, biological characteristics Western Gissara, and in particular areas of Kyzylsujsky and Mirakinsky national parks was a problem of present expedition. In connection with a sharp intensification of economic activities lately the nature has had rather essential losses: only the area occupied archoj, this typical tree of the Central Asian mountains making the main basis all them ekosistemy, for last twenty years was reduced more than twice … reservoirs and the rivers, mainly because of dumps from the fields sated with mineral fertilizers, pesticides have very much suffered.

We went in a direction to JAkkabagu where the management of Kyzylsujsky reserve settled down, a little kruzhnym by - through Samarkand, Karshi because simultaneously the expedition problem included inspection of local museums of study of local lore.

In a way we should spend three days. And then weeks two in reserves.

2.

Long, long way on dry, the burnt sun adyram, that is to foothills. I recollect, how more recently flied by the plane to Samarkand and looked at the earth, and it was difficult to present, that on buro-red this surface, vsholmlennoj here and there, forming so dead from above the Zeravshansky ridge, there can be any life. But it, of course, is, though and suppressed, blinded by the infinite sun.

We pine in the bus in spite of the fact that windows and the valve in a ceiling are opened and the wind walks, but it is dry, hot and sated by a dust. Kisnut, thoughts fade, rasslablenno and inertly the flesh suffers.

At last Samarkand. An oasis of greens, a vigorous life among semilifeless monotonous hills. The most ancient city, capital of the country prospering once with the beautiful name Sogdiana. Only several days ago I was here for the first time - went fascinated, admiring with art of set of talented people which created fantastic mosques, medrese, the mausoleums, despite mad this heat, have enclosed efforts of the minds and hands, the breath in these perfect forms, in bewitching sine-blue colours. Their bones have decayed for a long time … But they have passed us the fallen asleep results which have won time of the efforts - echoes of representations about Beauty. And about Eternity. The Gur-emir, Shahs-zinda, Registan … And among new - absolutely other - lives they rise as representatives of those, the left generations. Reserves of human spirit. The particles of pleasure enclosed in these structures, in birjuzovo-azure ornaments of walls …

Most of all I liked memorial ensemble Shahs-zinda. It is translated as «the live tsar». Why? Perhaps, because the mausoleums symbolised «an eternal life»? But there can not be eternal a body life, and it is strange, that ancient souls believing during a life out of a body and in resettlement of souls, attached all the same huge significance to a body. And to its mortal remains. The ensemble mausoleums are rather insignificant, any of them does not apply for absolute superiority, founders of everyone only tried to make its as more as possible beautiful irrespective of others and in a harmonious combination to others. And charm also consisted in it. It is ensemble in which each participant has the right to vote, that so it will well be co-ordinated with one of the main laws of the nature. Notable people, relatives of the tsar, the lost soldiers, numerous wives Timur have been buried here. About one of the mausoleums I stood longest. It is dazzling azure, vopijushche azure enamel tiles covered it, and letters Arabian vjazju sang of beauty of that that was based here. A fog-eye, twenty years', most beautiful of Timur's wives … Why she has died so early? This mausoleum unexpectedly differed from all others - the artist was obviously beat out from the general style and has enclosed in its ornament fire of own soul. Not to the dignitary, not fire - the young and perfect woman has been given the soldier. It was recollected in this connection one of the most impressing monuments of love of the man to the woman - the mausoleum Tadzh-waved in Agra, in far India. The present miracle of architecture and art taste …

The well-known mosque of Samarkand Bibi-Hanym which named once «east pearl», collapses. It all in building woods - say, that restorers try to suspend destructions though somehow to preserve that remains. Say also, that there was a serious error in the mosque project why it has not stood test by time unlike perfectly well saved till now the mausoleum the Gur-emir, ensemble Shahs-zinda, majestic medrese Registan. In the last even arrange concerts, and the Tashkent TV regularly conducts their translation …

Somehow it was strange to look from the bus on gone to pieces, dying, braided by woods Bibi-Hanym, easy standing among vanity of quite modern Samarkand market.

We have stayed in Samarkand not for long. This time all was prosaically: have eaten in a dining room, have bought in the market a dried apricots and a cherry and have gone further …

Again heat and a dust, but gradually comes nearer evening, and with it and a cool. Absolutely near to a highway - for the present low, but already present spurs of the Zeravshansky ridge. We should choose a place of the first lodging for the night. We turn off there where there is any similarity of soil road, we creep on it in small gorge, we see the road tablet: "Sarykul". It seems, it is translated as «yellow lake». But lakes something is not visible. But there are more and more vegetation, even small trees, here settlement Sarykul.

But the settlement is not necessary for us, we need a cosy place among mountains, and ZHora with Tahirom go to ask local residents. Come back, have resolutely a seat and speak Saidazimu that it went further. And above. Tiny small houses of settlement quickly come to an end, but it is quite possible to go still, and at last we appear in rather cosy valley with dense thickets kserofitov, small trees and a high, green, dense grass in a dry channel of the former streamlet, that definitely testifies to close water.

Amicably we jump out from the bus and we go on investigation. Is! There is perfect rodnichok in kushchah grasses, and nearby a flat place for parking. Has not brought a scent of our skilled commander while he has ordered to turn off from a highway! Both it became cool. Efficiently also our first camp is set joyfully up - that is the copper and a teapot, bowls, mugs, spoons, collapsible stools, fire wood (them we too just in case took with ourselves) … is pulled out from the bus sleeping bags, folding beds,

Apollos here, of course, cannot be (whether though a little …), but there can be any unusual butterflies.

On expedition George Petrovich Gritsenko, but now it all in organizational and economic cares will be engaged in insects: on the agenda business of extreme importance - a supper. And here at whom, as well as at me, eyes, so it at botany of Lena Bogdanovoj have run up.

- Look, what magnificent grasses! - as always a little drawlingly and with the ocharovanno-surprised smile Lena speaks. - you have chosen a just fine place, George Petrovich. This, with lilovenkimi florets, - perovskija. And dry skeletons - ferula assafetida. It is a lot of wormwood, and still, look, astragaly! And different! Here ferulno-perovskievyj a slope, it is possible so to say … you feel, what aroma? Will sleep simply amazingly!

Really, aroma is felt - dry and spicy aroma of steppes. Here where air so air. But butterflies I something do not see. Obviously, late. Day butterflies in general are in the habit to depart to a dream very much early when it is absolutely light. Whether get tired for a day, whether react to an evening cold snap. And nevertheless it would be advisable to walk around vicinities. Seeing as eyes at me and at Lena burn, ZHora magnanimously releases us, and also Belief Grigorevnu with the son. Three of them go to one party, and I in another. I would like to talk heart-to-heart to a valley from which I am for certain - never I will not meet any more, short of tomorrow's morning.

The sun slowly falls, reddens. The sky is accordingly poured by a crimson dye. Muddy a smoke shrouds distances. Our conversation consists that I simply sit on a warm stone, I look and I listen to silence. The extraordinary, majestic calmness sets in in neighbouring mountains and valleys. It is passed also to me.

We sleep in the sleeping bags put on folding beds, is direct under the big southern stars.

3.

In the morning, hardly it is light, Lena and Tahir go to mountains already thoroughly, take with itself gerbarnye folders, a chopper and small toporik. I too go to mountains, but I need to wait, when the sun will warm air. And butterflies. A breakfast something about nine, and then departure.

Butterflies interesting me here, similar, no, short of satirov different kinds, but I to them am indifferent.

But plants are really interesting. Attracts attention that each of them some kind of "person". To survive in the conditions of dryness and sharp differences of temperatures uneasy, delicacy and inexpediency here are not quoted. Plants are strong, tenacious, hardy. All in them corresponds to mission: the branched out roots deeply getting into rigid soil sensitively catch each droplet of a moisture, accurately distribute it on all system of vessels and simultaneously reliably keep a plant, not allowing a wind to break it from a place, fastening lobes rastreskannuju the loose earth; green leaves are plentifully covered by hairs, and even prickles to interfere with excessive evaporation of a moisture and to rescue live gentle cages from temperature drops, from burning day beams, from eating by all successively travojadnymi; The internal vivifying liquid of a plant, its "blood", is strongly concentrated, not that that razzhizhennyj juice spoilt by a moisture, it is sated by salts and biologically active substances why it is fragrant, why, as a rule, and lekarstvenna; flowers not so are large and effective, as at coddled, but in own way too are beautiful, fragrant, numerous; stvoliki, branches and stalks at them are rigid, flexible, elastic,

And here, please: among sharp that heated stylyh stones, among heat and a cold, under drying up winds and ruthless solar beams, on the dehydrated, kamenno-rigid soil these accustomed to everything, beings perfectly well trained by a severe life prosper! They do not call pity, sympathy. They force to admire themselves. They learn to courage!

Here perovskija. High enough, rather branched out bush with small leaflets and directly covered with set lilovo-lilac charming, though also small tsvetkov. Each bush in itself, everyone keeps independently though does not object to the neighbourhood of another, but does not nestle close in powerlessness neither to the earth, nor to the neighbour, asks nothing from anybody but only gives. Gives aroma, nectar opyliteljam, a shade requiring, fastens the earth roots, keeps in itself a moisture which immediately would disappear. To what a worthy example!

Or ferula. It not that ferula, that was on ridge Karzhantau, in a paradise valley of small river, on Glade Maksimova or to "Eldorado". It is other kind - ferula-assafetida, that "smelly" means. What because? But it is useful as a medicine to us, despite the fact that what we have christened its so dissonant name. It is harmonous and is in own way effective: a such small tree with thick stvolikom, but not ligneous, but rather soft, as at cabbage-kolrabi, and with long as beams, leaves, it is free raskinutymi extensively. Now these original trees in height from semimeter to metre were absolutely dry - they have become obsolete the short century in April-May, but also dried up they decorated a valley.

And a wormwood? She in general can devote odes for to it many fruitless earths are obliged by the vegetative live cover, it a basis ekosistem waterless steppes. Bitter? Yes after all and its life is not sweet - with ours, of course, the points of view. Only with ours because, looking at its mighty, grey-silvery thickets, it you will not tell. And aroma? Unless it is possible for itself to present dry steppe without bitter - but after all perfect! - aroma of a wormwood?

I admired plants of a valley and, of course, photographed them. As to Lena Bogdanovoj its delight difficultly and to describe. When we turned off from a highway in search of a place for a lodging for the night, she, anything especial for herself not expecting, has met, as she said, set of pleasant unexpectedness. Have especially admired it astragaly, and the morning early campaign has brought even opening. It has found a plant which did not meet never earlier, - "graceful", as she said, grassy mnogoletnik with sirenevo-pink tsvetkami. It was clear, that it concerns family krestotsvetnyh. And the sort could be defined: stroganovija. But here a kind …

Exciting chill was felt by it in a breast. Really?. Have cautiously dug out with Tahirom all bush, have carefully hidden in gerbarnuju a folder. Only then, in Tashkent, it was definitively found out, what yes, really, it was absolutely new kind unknown earlier. In 1937 the similar plant has been found by one botanikom, placed in a herbarium, but has not been defined and described, since then was strongly showered, became almost unrecognizable … And here now it is again opened, is described, the name is given it: stroganovija zeravshanskaja. And botanical opening even in the XX-th century are made. It is necessary to be attentive, interested, not to be afraid to spend the night open-air in wild places and early to rise!

And after all who knows, maybe, stroganovija zeravshanskaja possesses any especially attractive, from our point of view, properties which will render in due course service to mankind? In total it is possible to wait, especially from plants - of "persons".

Butterflies who would interest me, I still have not found, have come to curtail time to us camp and to go further. The way was coming the considerable.

By settlement Sarykul have returned on a highway, and again proceeded yesterday's - a dust, heat, a dry wind. And our lodging for the night, a valley, opening of Lena were carried away in the past. Now a ridge and adyry remained on horizon, and we rolled on absolutely equal Karshinsky steppe. It would Seem, well as it is possible to live, what it is possible to take from this boundless dry space? But the road was quite modern, asphalt, and soon we have seen oil derricks, and then and cotton fields. An amusing, cheerful surprise the tiny small house of GAI constructed in national spirit, as medrese - with domes, balconies for supervision over road (the such heated sun deck), a green lawn around on which dark red roses blossomed has seemed to us suddenly grown on a way, near to expensive. Saidazim has stopped the bus to testify the respect to inhabitants of a small house, but those have not appeared. Probably, there was just a lunch break.

- On penalties it is constructed, - has joked ZHora. - With breaking ponabirali, whether understand. Also have built.

All of us have joyfully laughed and have thought of how it is good, as in dry steppe the cheerful person understanding works, that the life is not only sad execution of the ordered rules, let even very serious and obligatory.

And absolutely unexpected was to see a signboard "Bar" on a pediment of the low white building also surrounded with blossoming and smelling sweet bushes of roses. Round this next oasis of a civilisation boundless hot spaces were spread.

And here at last a city of Karshi, the centre of the Kashkadarinskii area. The local Museum of the nature settled down in ancient medrese. The nice person, the Arab on a nationality was the director of a museum. I with pleasure have photographed the director and its absolutely charming daughter of years of five with beautiful name Lola.

We and karshinsky have visited a noisy market, and then again went on hot spaces, but have soon begun adyry, began to meet much more greens near to road which gradually went on lifting.

The settlement Jakkabag also has been at all surrounded by gardens, here we have found reserve office Kyzylsujsky, however on the occasion of evening, moreover and Sunday, here was nobody, except the watchman. Nevertheless the watchman has taken away to us a perfect place for a lodging for the night - among dense greens of trees an extensive wooden flooring with a canopy in immediate proximity from the rough and muddy river Kyzyldari.

Here there was its bottom current, and in top it has name Kyzylsu, that in effect same: "darja" the river, "sou" - water, and "kyzyl" - red means.

Red River. Red water.

On it the reserve Kyzylsujsky, for Kyzylsu - its main artery also is named. So now the way upwards on a valley was coming us.

4.

In the morning while we waited for the director, I thoroughly, in different foreshortenings, have photographed a dragonfly the beauty shining in dense thickets of grasses at a stream running in Kyzyldarju.

Dragonflies of the beauty are found in set and in an average strip, more correctly, were found in set because now them became a little earlier and they already are subject to protection. It really fantastic creations with dark blue fragile wings, extremely graceful thin bodies, casting metal shine, long   graceful   legs and huge eyes - not casually weigh a sort of these dragonflies it is named by beauties. And the most widespread kinds - the beauty shining and the beauty the girl. But volshebno dark blue wings    males possess only, at females they are transparent, though and with greenish, and even reddish outflow. Who did not observe of these  charming, slowly flitting creations having a seat on thin blades over the water! They give unforgettable charm to a wood stream, the silent small small river, mislaid in a thicket of wood to lake … To all other, they eat hated to all of us of midges and mosquitoes.

But before the person they, alas, are defenceless. It is possible to catch the beauty.

It is much more difficult to photograph it.

But with what this sensation of beauty - search of a successful pose, a composition of a picture, a foreshortening, a background, illumination is not comparable. That not only you, but also others then admired. And the feeling of satisfaction if the picture has gone right is perfect. It is especially full, when know: you have not brought harm to that beauty with which admired. Pleasure particles …

On coast Kyzyldari magnificently blossomed, paternal was as if the old acquaintance - grebenshchik-tamariks is splashed by pink foam. And on horizon already rose in blue a smoke white "snezhniki". There - reserve.

At last we have gone on a meeting with the director. Our stay depended on it in territory which the state has entrusted it to protect. As I already spoke, never before expedition of the Museum of the nature of Tashkent did not happen in these places, and all members of expedition, including commander George Petrovicha Gritsenko, had about Kyzylsujsky the most vague idea. Knew only, that it it is mountain-archovyj, that it is based more recently - in 1975, that its territory about 30 thousand hectares, that is about 300 square kilometres, that, according to the directory, «on natural-historical division into districts reserve territory concerns the Turansky fiziko-geographical province of Central Asia». It is located at heights from 1800 to 4000 metres above sea level, includes mountains and gorges. There is there as if even a picturesque canyon, high-mountainous small lakes, plaster and karstic caves, largest of which - cave Tamerlana (height - 10-15 metres, width - 8-10, and extent - to 625 metres) which comes to an end with high-mountainous underground lake. In reserve flora it is noted as if about 500 kinds of plants, however its vegetation up to the end is not investigated. The fauna here totals twenty eight kinds of mammals: belokogotnyj a bear, a lynx, a wolf, a snow leopard, a wild boar, the Siberian mountain goat, a marten, an otter. Birds more than eight-ten kinds, such, as a golden eagle, a sea eagle-belohvost, snow and black signature stamps, white-headed sip, keklik, Himalaya ular, a hoopoe …

About insects in the directory it was not spoken anything, but I remembered words Krepsa that there much that can be and that in those places «still nobody caught».

ZHora very much worried before a meeting with the director because to us could forbid simply stay in reserve territory, especially could not resolve gathering of insects, plants (about mammals and birds the question, of course, did not rise), besides the admission in reserve has been written out on seven persons, and us was eleven. Together with itself on an audience George Petrovich took a two - Elena Leonidovnu Bogdanovu as the candidate of the sciences, the known expert, and me as the visitor from Moscow, the representative of the press.

The director has appeared the low, very vigorous, black-eyed person dressed in grey-steel colours a suit, reminding the military form. The smile at it was wide and very affable. Called him Salim Sodykovich Sodykov.

Hardly we were presented and ZHora is short, slightly faltering from excitement, has told about the expedition purpose as Salim Sodykovich has again smiled broadly, has dissolved hands in inviting gesture and, artfully blinking black cheerful eyes, has begun to paint advantages and beauty rukovodimogo it economy:

- Welcome to us, go, look, study! Fauna at us very rich: the wild boar is, the mountain goat is, the porcupine, marmot Menzbira … much that is. Birds too a lot of different - eighty one kind. Only here fishes one kind - marinka, because water in Kyzylsu very cold. And beauty what at us - you such never saw, I warrant! And archi it was much saved - five thousand hectares on slopes, continuous archa! The cave is Tamerlana, you know it, probably, and still traces of a dinosaur hardened have found recently … Well and how the capital of our Native land - Moscow there is? - He has addressed to me.

In reserve to us gathering of plants and insects, however camp have been resolved it was necessary to break out of territory, near to its border. Birds and reptiles for a museum exposition can be extracted too only in vicinities. At all obvious good nature and hospitality of the director in him hardness, and me was felt, to tell the truth, it was pleasant. And as the camp will be not in the reserve also the quantity of members of expedition any more had no crucial importance.

Sodykov still for a long time told about wild boars, mountain goats, bears, has promised to us all assistance, and we left its office in light of iridescent prospects.

In accompanying to us the director has defined botany Sujuna ZHullieva, very lovely young man which person was played constantly by a timid smile.

And we have gone.

But to reserve, it appears, it was still very far, the road went uphill, the bus hysterically spoke hoarsely, hummed, sneezed and coughed. Here when the best part of our travel to reserve has begun! Valley Kyzyldari became more and more green and wild - breakages, the taluses, the bared rocks of red colour, for what, obviously, the river and has received the name Red. Water its times really carried a reddish shade. The landscape around began to accept "Martian" character. But here on wild "Martian" slopes flowers were lighted never vidannye by me earlier. High inflorescences belonged obviously to any kind eremurusa, but unlike violet-red robustusa they were surprising colour - almost white, with the pink shade, shone. Difficultly and to pass, what sensation was called by this white-pink fragile defencelessness in a combination to severity of red-brown rocks.

- What is it? - in admiration I have asked Lena Bogdanovu.

- Eremurus Olga, - shining brightly a smile, as always, when she spoke about plants, Lena has answered. - it is named so in honour of the wife of known traveller Alexey Pavlovicha Fedchenko.

- That which name have named a glacier?

- Yes, that.

Water in a bus radiator has begun to boil, and we have been compelled to stop. To that I was very glad. Directly near to road the whole plantation eremurusov was shone. At last I have seen these flowers close.

So, they were perfect. Is gentle-pink petals - everyone with a dark red thin strip in the middle - and a light yellow pestle. Stamens long, thin, with tiny orange pylnikami. To all other, they exhaled the most gentle, most pleasant aroma. Each inflorescence was to semimeter in length, from set tsvetkov it was dense, magnificent and terminated in the unblown buds extended and peaked, is dense-pink, with dark red strips. In general the inflorescence eremurusa made impression of luxury, but also refinement at a time, refinement and a jewelry. The special charm was that magnificent these flowers in set grew here, on severe stony slopes … Yes, not casually them have named a name of the woman! And it is quite clear, that known fans of colours - Dutches, having found out this beauty in mountains, immediately have begun to plant eremurusy in the nizinnyh gardens … More shortly, at first sight and for ever I have fallen in love in eremurus Olga.

The bus has recovered the breath, has a little cooled down, we were slowly dragged further, and I all thought of how memory of a couple of travellers-scientists is poetically immortalised: the longest and powerful glacier in the Union, incorporated huge weights of eternal ice, - and the most beautiful, in my opinion, a mountain flower, pink, womanly-gentle, found. Whether well a perfect "family" combination? So let is well, let there is always a fragile and gentle flower, as if shone, doing truly live these red stones!

Our way proceeded not for long - water has begun to boil again. And further road even more abruptly. It became clear, that it is necessary to search for a tractor with a towing rope. To reserve it was still far …

5.

The settlement Kalta-if, that is meant by «a short hand», is picturesquely scattered among sprawling willows and is dense-green trees of a walnut in valley Kyzylsu. This kishlak - last before reserve, but to it we go on foot while Saidazim together with Raphael try on the sly, small "throws" to catch up with us by the facilitated bus. Our emaciated and the vehicle obviously not adapted for local abrupt roads remains far behind, and we have a rest in a hospitable small house of one of local residents, laying on a floor on koshme and with indescribable pleasure supping okroshka from sour milk with any local greens. The mistress asks to make a family portrait, I leave on the sun, the family is going to, fills all small verandah, children something about ten, but it appears, what is it yet it is an elder son and the oldest daughter at job …

At last we see the bus which heroically, with desperate sipom, with an anguish creeps in a kishlak … back to front! Saidazim has recollected, that a reverse gear most "viscous". We use it and further, but is short.

In kilometre otselenija Kalta-if - absolutely charming glade blocked from different directions by the big trees: huge walnuts, willows, a mulberry, an ash, a cherry. The grass on a glade on a belt and above, is a lot of colours, mainly a yellow yarrow and prickly mulgedium, and still a tansy, kuzinija (the near relation of our thistle), skabioza … the Place very beautiful, but now, it appears, only and begins the "present" road, because reserve behind pass. Pass at height of 2800 metres, and to it of 12 kilometres on such road which our bus even back will not overcome.

There is a prospect to remain here till the end of expedition …

I look at a glade, on green blossoming slopes which surround it from different directions, I plan routes of the travel and, as always during the periods of vital failures, I try to adjust myself on an optimistic harmony. «Everything, that becomes, - to the best», - I think. Besides and these places are perfect, whether here only I will meet here Apollos …

Yes, the glade is simply magnificent, but we should break its charm - «the anthropogenous factor»! We pitch tents, we take away a place for a fire and it is weeded for this purpose awfully caustic, high, it is tenacious keeping in the earth mulgedium which is immediately renamed in "tragedium": metre height stalks and its leaves are covered long, to three centimetres, extremely sharp thorns which get through clothes directly into a body without any delay. I, of course, am first admired by a nature ingenuity, but very quickly protective equipment mulgediuma, its strong stalks and exclusively tenacious roots call disappointment …

Even now, in the evening, butterflies it is a lot of, and I with pleasure mark it. Really at those tops I will not meet any Parnassiusa?

- ZHora how you think, there can be here Apollos? - I ask at much pogrustnevshego the chief of expedition.

- Can, probably. And generally who knows them …

George Petrovich with melancholy glances at associates us mountain, on road towards reserve which at once behind camp abruptly - oh, too cool! - directs upwards. He obviously and openly suffers. He warned the director, that the road will be not from simple, that "Kuban" can not pull - is necessary ГАЗ-66, he and Saidazimu ordered as it is necessary to debug the bus and to take with itself necessarily towing cable. But ГАЗ-66 have not given, towing cable Saidazim has forgotten, and hardly it would help now, a towing cable. After all twelve kilometres to pass …

Our supper too is painted by grief. Lena Bogdanova - to it is sad even so gathering at reserve heights are important. Elena Alekseevna is even more sad: and how cave Tamerlana? How the most important thing - traces of a dinosaur?

And still we believe in the light future. Whether it is not enough … Perhaps, somehow the director will help. Or … E, yes that there! Let us wait and see.

6.

Three days stood we camp in a picturesque hollow, in kilometre from settlement Kalta-if, before a steep slope on pass, in full uncertainty, whether we will get sometime to reserve. Three days I travelled on neighbouring slopes in jungle of various trees and grasses, with interest observing their numerous inhabitants. As to grasses except for ever captivated me eremurusa Olga, and also a yarrow, tansies, kuzinii, zveroboja, skabiozy, zizifory, ruty, a wormwood grew here in set mohnatolistye astragaly to which Elena Leonidovna Bogdanova tested special propensity ours botanik. Their yellowish-green, too the inflorescences covered with silky hairs were similar to such scaly sausages or on shaggy balls. The specific name of one of them, according to Lena, was nobilis. That is "noblest".

From bushes was especially interesting puzyrnik. Razdutye its pinkish fruits and actually were as the dried up fish bubbles, in which as in rattles, small seeds were poured. Flowers, bright yellow, with red pestrinami on petals, surprisingly reminded the Wolf from the well-known cartoon film «Well, pogodi!».

Here and there magnificent copies buzulnika - grassy mnogoletnika, possessing curative properties towered on one and a half metre and above covered with the yellow colours-solnyshkami partly reminding a camomile with refined petals-rays. However, all plants have medicinal value here almost.

Slopes have entirely grown with places violently blossoming red-pink kopeechnikom, whose fruits and actually are similar to small coins. Together with skabiozoj - too red-pink – blossoming kopeechnik represented a perfect pasture for set of butterflies - golubjanok, melanargy, shashechnits, repejnits, beljanok, sometimes even mahaonov. Met small, but beautiful kraeglazok Eversmanna - endemikov Central Asia, named so in honour of known Russian zoologist of XIX century E.Eversmanna Very much. Sometimes flew by magnificent brizeida, obviously, one of its subspecies whom George Petrovich has defined as antej. I have christened its gold satirom. Its zolotisto-brown wings have been decorated by wide light strips and cast a fantastic blue.

But I and have not met Apollos. Any.

Time I has reached almost pass and stood there, with awe looking on the reserved earths: peaked snezhniki in dark blue a smoke, naked rocks and archovye thickets, the cold wind at height … Also cast to me inaccessible mysterious reserve of sensation of the childhood when all life ahead was so attracting, mysterious when so excited fanned by romanticism of wanderings of the book and among them «Earth Sannikova».

Yes, «Earth Sannikova» was recollected more often, and we have christened inaccessible reserve so - «Earth Sannikova» … Certainly, to "travel" it is possible basically on any glade. Even in a court yard. But after all were adjusted … Besides I went for Apollo. And they were not here. And every day attracted the inaccessible earths … more and more

- Well, ZHora, we will get or not? - I rhetorically asked the chief of expedition who went all three days with the sad and anxious kind, measuring by a sight a steep slope of mountain road, as if inventing the artful plan thanks to which we «on pike velenju» and on general hotenju will be transferred together with forwarding luggage through pass.

- Yes who knows it. We will look. The person assumes, and the god has, - thoughtfully spoke ZHora, as always travelling thoughts somewhere in far open spaces, but now it seemed to me, that far open spaces are they, the inaccessible earths.

I liked ZHoru both sympathised with it, and worried about it even more than for myself: after all it the chief, from it all depends, and we with hope look at it.

- The person assumes, and the god has, - thoughtfully repeated ZHora (it too was one of its habits: some times to repeat), and I have suddenly understood, that "god" in this case is, of course, the chief of geological party …

The matter is that some times us on our parking geologists already came to see - drank tea, talked about rich fossil mountains and about vicissitudes of life, and then carelessly overcame treasured lifting in terribly and powerfully humming "Urals Mountains", the magnificent lorry which body has been up to the top filled by heavy materials for geological party which settled down, it appears, near to pass.

The chief of party called so: Halim Hakimovich, but appearance at it, in my opinion, purely Russian: snub-nosed, light-haired, very little sunbathed. It was at us time two, intelligent and silent, has attentively listened to us and, apparently, promised … Really?.

And we waited, we hoped, and every day, with each visit of geologists we looked on all of them more asking, devoted eyes.

From geologists the most remembered was, undoubtedly, Brown Mahatov, the driver of "Urals Mountains". High, thin, beautiful, vigorous and ekspansivnyj, it liked me more and more. It was ardent and fast in acts, is wide soul, but we have distinguished some parties of its person not at once - there was at it even a serious incident with botanikom reserve Sujunom. Brown wished to hunt on wild boars, and Sujun wished to take away from it a gun, having declared, that in the close neighbourhood with reserve hunting is forbidden. Nearly, and I also have not ended in a fight, as well as other members of expedition, have been revolted Karimom, but …

Our "angel-saviour" who has generously shown kind enthusiasm by truly of the expansive nature, could become just Brown.

Also there has come day when it with the permission of Halima Hakimovicha should bring us with all luggage on coast Kyzylsu in immediate proximity from reserve. Through pass. Resettlement was planned for the evening. And in the afternoon our camp has visited Salim Sodykovich Sodykov and took me with a backpack out of turn - as the representative of the press. My friends have released me for two reasons: first, they have not been absolutely assured, that Brown will constrain the word, and secondly, in "UAZ" with the director of reserve three from the Tashkent TV already went: the main cameraman of studio "Узбекфильм" Sottar Dalabaev, its assistant, young operator Rustam Khakimov and sound technician Petja To us. They went on preliminary investigation soon to shoot a television film about reserve Kyzylsujsky. And next day in the morning Salim Sodykovich intended to arrange for us travel on reserve.

Here what turns happen sometimes suddenly in our destiny! The main thing - patience and then, can be …

7.

Here it also has come, a solemn instant. I take the things, I get into an "UAZ" body, I am excused with companions - I hope, that not for a long time, - and the small car with an anguish creeps upwards on road which I already proceeded.

Slowly float by familiar places - here I have successfully photographed melanargiju which patiently posed on a flower pink skabiozy, on those eremurusy Olga I have exhausted almost the whole film, there crept to mahaonam - and it is successful! Around those stones flied pandory and gold satires, and in rarefied archovnike for some reason especially was kraeglazok Eversmanna much. As quickly unfamiliar before a place become almost native if they are painted by memoirs, especially pleasant. Long expectation, difficult liftings was forgot, a heat … We go! Forward! To «Earth Sannikova»!

Here a final point of my campaigns - a small equal platform which from below is looked as mountain top, and actually only a step before the following step. Just here we also stop on rest - in an "UAZ" radiator water too boils. Already cool. And ahead - pass. It is necessary to put on shtormovku.

And here at last it, Tashkurgansky pass on Hissar mountains Pamiro-Alajskoj of a range. Somehow instantly and resolutely all has changed around. There was no heat - the cold wind walks here on open space. Ahead huge highland: bulks snezhnikov, huge assemblages of clouds over them, shrill blue of the sky. «Earth Sannikova»!

We stop.

- That top - Maskara, - speaks Salim Sodykovich. - And this is Hodzha-Pirjah. Four thousand five hundred metres.

- And where reserve?

- Here there and there, see? And further on Kyzylsu. Here there we go.

Yes, an impressive picture. Continuous mountains.

From pass we go down much faster, though and on brakes. We cross the wide plateau covered with the Alpine vegetation - here where, probably, I can meet them, Apollos, I think, and we come nearer to a rock reminding under the form whether the mausoleum, whether the lock.

- Both-winters-winters! - solemnly says Salim Sodykovich. - Mountain Both-winters-winters and a curative source with the same name. We will stop?

Directly from under a rock the stream, crystal-clear, cold flows. On its coast - dense thickets of grasses, flowers. Are lengthways expensive and on neighbouring rocks - a blossoming dogrose, rozovo-brown eremurus the Support (similar partly on robustus, only much more low and less effective), adonis plentifully blossoming by large yellow colours, prickly "hedgehogs" akantalimona further. Trees archi Here and there turn green.

We settle down at a stream, with pleasure we drink spring water. Salim Sodykovich throws directly in a stream pieces of the Uzbek flat cake that they have become impregnated with "curative water».

- In what its curative properties? - I ask.

- I do not know. Curative water - and everything, - answers the director. Then, having thought and having grinned: - Well here, for example, if the head is ill after a holiday waters you will have a drink this is also all in the morning as a hand will remove!

- How the brine, means? - Smiling, speaks sluggish full Sottar.

- Yes-yes, as a brine, precisely! - picks up Petja To us.

- Better! - with authority minds Salim Sodykovich. - And if it is serious vivacity is given by this water. Health! Pure, cold. And salts here any are the valuable. And still, look, snow on a rock is not present, and it flows all the summer long. Whence?

And Salim Sodykovich artfully blinks pitch eyes.

Really: whence?

Water and actually the excellent. Having got drunk it is a lot of, I have filled a flask.

- Well, have gone? - The hospitable owner invites.

We rush further, we bend around the big mountain, and before us the fantastic picture swings open suddenly truly.

In a hollow in beams of the sunset sun we have seen an assemblage of low pise-walled small houses which seemed now gold. Over them rose bluish peaked snezhniki. In the sapphire sky bulks of cumulus clouds here and there have fallen asleep. The picture was is shrill, "vopijushche" beautiful, any artificial, though and surprisingly finished in each detail. Having got accustomed, I have understood, that the main thing was at all it - not "scandalous" beauty of a landscape.

The main thing, that was felt at once: the kishlak is absolutely empty - the person! It installed alarm, but any romantic alarm and awoke memoirs on the read in memory: about the mysterious Andes of the South America where successful travellers opened ancient, dead now cities inkov.

- What is it? - absolutely fascinated, I have asked at Salima Sodykovicha.

- Kishlak Tashkurgan. Beautifully, yes? We will stop. - and it has knocked on a cabin. "UAZ" has stopped.

- And where people?

- - Have moved people. In 1975 when reserve have organised. I supervised over resettlement, - with pride the director has told.

- How have moved? Where?

- In Karshinsky steppe. In good, modern houses. It was impossible to leave here, understand? And so archu have cut down, slopes here and there have absolutely grown bald, see? There's nothing to be done, it was necessary to move. Three hundred twenty four families was, about two thousand persons. And worked in state farm, by the way, know how much? Fifty seven persons! In total! On one thousand able-bodied! In a separation from the country, understand? That have moved people, correctly, I consider. And an exit there was no another. Either a kishlak, or reserve. At us office there. We will go, I will show today a kishlak to you. Two mosques remained. On three hundred, four hundred years to mosques …

In some minutes we have driven in a dead city. But it was not absolutely empty. People here, it appears, were.

«Kyzylsujsky it is mountain-archovyj national park» - so it has been written on a signboard on one of small houses. Us left to meet.

Salim Sodykovich has given some orders, and we have gone on excursion on Tashkurganu.

Ancient monuments of Samarkand, but also in these simple, and now are perfect and perfect, of course, besides and the gone to pieces, left structures there was a charm. Those were under construction all the same for an ornament, these for a life. Simple, natural and everyday.

Certainly, pise-walled one-storeyed small houses reminded medieval, and there can be, even even more ancient dwellings, and no luxury existed in them. But in them there lived people, lived long - years and years that is why, as well as in products of the nature, there was in them an expediency which has been not aesthetically set, and natural. The harmony, the style and a rhythm.

Strange charm covers us when we examine the human dwellings which have collapsed from time! Holes in the walls, the peeled clay plaster, the failed roofs, and here and there and simply rests of walls … Time has smoothed sharp corners … Deserted court yard of young growth a high grass, small trees, bushes. The grass and even bushes were sometimes and inside - in the former rooms if there got enough light. Once here teemed mnogoljude - women and men were engaged in an economy, children played, everyone had a life, with pleasures and afflictions, cares and happiness.

- Certainly, if to adjust podvoz coal with fuel a problem to solve it is possible, - continued in the meantime Salim Sodykovich. - Yes after all road uneasy. And it is a lot of houses. Moreover poaching happens. How animals you will protect, if to the people so much? Have got used to hunt. From neighbouring settlements here come. For a wild boar. And even a bear will fill up, a goat. We fine, and all the same go. See, piles, racks were saved in houses is archa. The tree archi hundreds years grows, and the person took and has cut down in some minutes … Here a mosque.

The structure hardly is more than others, with a flat roof, similarity of a spacious verandah with carved props-columns. A list on a ceiling, on walls in the heart of a premise. A niche in a wall with an arch above - it is obvious, it amvon where there was a preacher-mullah.

- Three hundred years, and it was saved, see? - Has told Salim Sodykovich. - And more one is, hardly far away.

Extreme small houses stood at the breakage. Below, metres in five-ten, under steep rocks the flat and naked coast, and further - a channel of the rough river Kyzylsu was seen. Above on a current gradually converging gorge, and still above - mountains with the tops covered with snow was visible.

- Will spend the night at us, - has told, addressing to me, Salim Sodykovich. - Tomorrow in four mornings we will rise.

With us on a kishlak high, very thin, silent man with wrinkled swarty, as if dried up, prokopchennym the sun the person, with grey-haired moustaches and in tjubetejke went.

- Hamid Nazarovich Nazarov, - has presented to its all Salim Sodykovich when we only still went to travel on a kishlak. - the main forest warden of the reserve, twenty six years at this job. Has awards …

I was a sign with Hamidom Nazarovichem - it came on our parking and even has invited me once to go with it to cave Tamerlana - it astride a horse, and I on foot to office, and then both on horses. Having thought, I then have refused, because, first, not the cave most of all involved me, secondly, just then there was a hope of geologists, and thirdly, I after all on a horse never in a life …

- Salim Sodykovich! Hamid Nazarovich! - I have addressed now to them, and in my voice even solemn notes, apparently, have begun to sound. - and tell, whether you noticed here, around a kishlak, or there, in mountains, the big white butterflies with red and black stains?

Also has immediately hastened to add:

- The matter is that in edition of magazine to me have charged to photograph these butterflies because they disappear. They in the Red book. It is very important.

Smiles which was have appeared on persons when I have told about butterflies, after a mention of magazine and the Red book have disappeared.

- What butterflies? - Has seriously asked again Hamid Nazarovich.

- Well here such size approximately, - I have shown on fingers. - white, translucent, and still - red and black stains.

- Yes it is a lot of them here like, - has told Hamid Nazarovich, - white butterflies, the truth? - He has addressed to the director.

- Yes, is, is! - has optimistically supported it Salim Sodykovich. - Specially, of course, attention did not turn, but like is.

- Yes, is, is, - has confirmed and Hamid Nazarovich.

8.

To any sports skills, as well as language, is better to study, of course, in the childhood and a youth. The young organism has not got stronger yet, it is flexible, pliable, skills are developed quickly. So it has turned out, that nobody learnt me in the childhood to skate, skis, a two-wheeled bicycle that is why I had to pay off for inability at that age when contemporaries all have mastered for a long time already it. It was a shame before them, especially before girls, and I tried to come on a skating rink when there was as small as possible to the people. On skis I too studied in loneliness, as well as on a bicycle. Both that and another, and third I has, of course, mastered, as to a bicycle that any more once travelled on him for many days on end on our huge country and has driven not one tens thousand kilometres.

And here on a horse had not a seat never in a life.

As to typical townspeople driving by top seemed me something exotic and inaccessible.

When yesterday Salim Sodykovich has told about travel on reserve, I somehow have not reflected on that, what is it will be for travel and on what.

In the morning we have risen something about five hours, have quickly washed, going to, left in an office court yard in morning twilight. Some horses have been saddled. They peacefully pinched from time to time a grass at a fence.

With us forester Parda Rustamov should go. Collected and silent, it was already here - last time checked, whether horses are correctly saddled.

- Here your horse, - has told to me Salim Sodykovich. - Have a seat.

Only here I have really realised … Till this moment still not clearly, on what hoped, thought, that, maybe, near to someone on a saddle, behind, or all the same on foot. No, not in that was has put, that I was frightened, did not want and so on. And it was not simple full confidence … and here now it became clear.

It was a bay stallion from wheaten colour a mane.

- What is his name? – I have asked. Salim Sodykovich has grinned:

- At us do not give a name to horses. "From" - and all. That is "horse".

- And whose it?

- Horse Tursunbaja.

During one this instant in morning twilight in a court yard of office of reserve in mountains of Central Asia, the god knows, how is far from my Moscow house what now the mix of feelings has begun to boil in me! In the childhood and a youth I, of course, dreamt to drive on a horse - yes who did not dream of it?! - but it was impossible in any way, and I already thought, that never … Still early yesterday I have not been assured at all, that I will get sometime to inaccessible reserve «Earth Sannikova»! And here a yesterday's way here through pass, mountain and a source "Both-winters-winters", travel on a kishlak and whether at last «horse Tursunbaja» … Yes in a dream all it? Again during the wanderings in search of Apollo I have felt myself though also the adult, but the boy before whom the life opens one more of the mysterious pages!

All was immediately recollected chitannoe and vidennoe at cinema concerning riding - I have corrected the camera, a bag, have put the left foot in a stirrup, undertook a hand a saddle, have made a start the right foot from the earth and, having strained, have dashing thrown the right foot through a back of a horse. All this time forester Parda held a horse by the bridle and, slightly smiling, looked at me.

- First time in a life top! - I have told, already having felt myself in a saddle, terribly worrying, but testing at the same time unusual, directly ringing pleasure somewhere in the middle of a breast.

- Anything-anything, - has told Parda. - the Horse good, quiet. Here so keep, it is a bridle. If that, slightly pull. Especially will to it do not give.

With the big work by means of Salima Sodykovicha got into a saddle very beautiful, grey, with a light dense mane of a horse (it seems, it is called "kauraja"?) Sottar Dalabaev.

- I too for the first time, - have told it, and I have read on its red from natugi, the concentrated person whom the uncertain smile played, as in him the mix of every possible feelings boils now.

And ahead there was a long way on mountains and rocks, on twisting tracks over a precipice, on sharp stones and unreliable taluses …

Has dashing jumped in a saddle small and easy Salim Sodykovich - a horse zapljasala under it, has felt the skilful goer. Has easy saddled horse Parda.

Slowly, rocking in saddles, we have left an office court yard.

«For the first time! For the first time in a life!» - fought at me in consciousness. Feet, the hands, all body has been strained, and heart faded with excitement, fear and happiness.

Passed empty Tashkurgan and began to go down slowly to the river on an abrupt footpath which was twisted by a streamer. For the first time in a life on a horse - and at once on such krucham! Though I understood: the main thing - ahead. The nausea slightly drove, when I looked downwards, under I twist, but to recede was late. Have safely gone down to the river, the horse has begun to grind hoofs on a pebble.

- Your tents. Yesterday have arrived, - has told Salim Sodykovich.

I have seen on stony flat coast four tents - two dark blue, two yellow - and have immediately learnt them. Our camp! The first solar beams have already glanced in a valley, tents have been shined. Coast round tents absolutely naked - a bush. Though in general valley Kyzylsu is, of course, very picturesque. Severe, wild district …

On the bridge have got over on opposite coast, the footpath has again gone upwards. Our camp was now as on a palm. People were not near to tents - still slept. The mountain had been piled boxes and other forwarding belongings.

The saddle has appeared wide, convenient, partly it even reminded an armchair with a small back. But such it seemed only first …

9.

There has come familiar, though for a long time not so not tested condition. Who from us had not to worry dangers? As to me I have invented for myself psychological reception: mentally you take heart trembling with fear a hand and softly you compress it that it has not jumped out and it was not broke off …

Before eyes and under feet hanging down from a saddle breakages and precipices continually swung open, and the footpath was rather doubtful, and that also covered with clicking stones breaking in a chasm. And even the horse at times cautiously and slowly rearranged hoofs and so it was easy to imagine, that it has stumbled, has broken and or we together fly to a chasm, or the habitual horse to all hangs on forward feet, and I certainly am not kept in a saddle and I fly to a precipice together with the cameras and objectives!

But also here rescued psychological reception: not only heart, but also imagination needed to be compressed as though in hands, not to give them will, to try to breathe more deeply, fixing on it the attention, and, despite spasms in knees and calves, murashki between shovels, intensity and, obviously, deathly pallor of the person to try to relax and, maybe, even to stir feet or hands, kamenno seized a bridle thong.

Periodically I made "feat": painfully overcoming itself, tore off hands from a bridle and undertook the camera, even it was straightened in a saddle hasty to make a picture. And then the life started potihonechku to come back in my parts which have become numb to loss of consciousness of a body.

And more from the very beginning it was necessary to reconcile that all can be. It also was correct! The same, obviously, helped also to my hapless companion, the same newly appeared cowboy, as well as I, Sottaru Dalabaevu. After all if it was hard to me what was Sottaru? It is much fuller and, possibly, is more senior me … But definitely blood of ancestors-Uzbeks, perfect equestrians, has prompted also to it the best psychological course: on nice, kind, roundish person Sottara I saw truly east detachment which though and with variable success, but nevertheless helped to overcome sufferings.

However, what such cowardly sufferings of our flesh if pictures around opened the majestic? Snow tops constantly were seen ahead, we moved ahead to them and crossed that ryzhe-brown, burnt out by the sun, emerald-green slopes, porosshie high enough grasses and yellow-white candles shone among them eremurusa Kaufmana. Before I did not meet him, but from Lena, that he already heard, from its point of view, the best and most fragrant of eremurusov. Personally I remained is correct eremurusu Olga, but Kaufmana to me too have liked. Inflorescences and eremurusa the Support there and then stuck out. There were also other flowers, but is swept most of all up zveroboj. From time to time it covered slopes with a bright yellow carpet.

«Do not hurry up!» - approximately so the greeting of inhabitants of the most high-mountainous countries on the Earth - Tibet, the Mustang, Butane sounds. Do not hurry up, for all majestic and rather considerable is slow. And we did not hurry up. Therefore I also could get used eventually to the new position and all with the big and big attention to look round on the parties,

That more often that on slopes of mountains not so high trees similar to accurate fur-trees archi, it vynoslivejshego from the trees, growing very much and very slowly less often crowded. A tree it, strangely enough, the evergreen. What to it to store the optimistically-green needles and in the mad Central Asian heat reaching forty degrees in a shade and in bitter colds when the temperature falls to a minus of forty five?!

The trunk archi, wrinkled, sinewy, covered with the rough, cracked bark, is not visible almost behind dense needles. But if it is possible to meet dried up, not sustained hurricanes of a life a tree here and its especial, courageous beauty is visible. The trunk is overwound, perekorezhen, covered by callosities and outgrowths, however is extraordinary strong. Even the died, dried up tree decoloured by winds, rains, frosts and a heat, costs, not being unsteady, its skeleton as if by inertia would resist to struggles of life. Here too a firmness and courage example!

But – alas! - what cannot make heat, a frost, winds and severe droughts, the person very simply does. Though wood archi is strong, is tenacious keep, sticking, apparently, in the strongest stone, its roots, however to cut this tree an iron saw or to cut down an axe easily enough. Correctly spoke Sodykov: some honeycombs, and even one thousand years grows archa before will reach enough "adult" growth, and the person can cut down or cut it for minutes …

For a breakfast we have stopped on a cosy glade in archovom to wood. On the brink of a glade in a high dense grass the stream, hardly murmured further, behind a stream, the rock steeply rose. Thick and absolutely already dried up tree archi by miracle kept on a small ledge. It was perfect.

Slezt from a horse it has appeared not so simply: from pressure knees strongly were ill, and, having stepped on the earth, I during the first moment have not fallen nearly. Calves For some reason have very much got tired. And a neck. Though the sun also has risen, but there were eight more o'clock in the morning. Apollos in such wound do not fly. But at a stream it was possible to photograph charming beljanochku, less our cabbage white butterfly, with dark veins on wings. It was then found out, what is it Turkestani beljanka, extended enough here. But to travel in a vegetation jungle now it was impossible. I was in the released condition. My imagination was occupied with mountains and horses …

We ate - our hospitable owner Salim Sodykovich has made a good cold breakfast: cucumbers, the Uzbek flat cakes, boiled meat, the eggs, any fruit drink, - and our horses were grazed, strenozhennye, on a glade. On the morning sun it looked very beautifully: as something ancient and peace blew from such picture. The high grass, any white flowers unknown to me, the sun … and horses.

Horse Sottara was the most beautiful, perhaps, - it would be desirable to name its Blonde. And on the second place my horse. It is insulting: he/she is the first horse in my life, and it even does not have name. «Horse Tursunbaja». A horse - the greatest necessity for a life of east people, the first companion, and here a name to give to it for some reason it is not accepted. Unlike Russia where always, apparently, were Savraski, Bay, Snow-storms …

Having had a rest, we have again climbed up in saddles, and horse travel on reserve proceeded, and each instant we could meet a bear, a leopard, a goat, a wild boar. Have met, the truth, only wild boars - their small family, pieces five or six, was grazed on a gentle slope. Salim Sodykovich the first has seen them, has terribly become agitated and has passed me forward, whisper having spoken:

- Give there. See? With the camera! And me make a picture. They not so are afraid of horses. Because of that tree. Faster, faster. Will leave!

I at last have made out wild boars, have prepared equipment, bystrenko have screwed a telephoto lens, and, having appeared ahead of our horse group, slightly even "have put spurs" to a horse, that is have pushed its heels.

My horse has moved, and I have not taken off nearly from a saddle, however in time was kept and have realised suddenly, that I already one and a horse washing rush at a gallop, and in hands at me the camera so I almost and am not was insolent. It became clear, that not to beat off all definitively and not to fall down, it is necessary pruzhinisto to half-rise on stirrups and to save balance, however with neprivychki it not too well turned out. At last wild boars became closer, I have made some pictures, but as it happened more than once at photographing of large animals, have not felt special excitement.

Much more I worried always if photographed, for example, a tiny bug, either a spider, or a dragonfly, even simply flower on an ordinary wood glade. And even at all on gazonchike in a city court yard.

However, still Goethe has told: it is the most difficult to make out just that is at you before eyes …

In total we were in saddles about eight hours. Have passed for this time something about thirty five kilometres by a northeast part of reserve Kyzylsujsky. And I, and Sottar towards the end of travel not chajali how to appear on the feet on the reliable earth. Especially it would be desirable to descend from a horse when went down downwards on a steepness: to keep in a saddle then it was most difficult. Besides both of us were afraid, that some time we can not sit in general. As the saddle was convenient, however by the end of travel I have found out in myself impressive enough graze from which blood exuded, - the skin has been absolutely erased. Running forward, I will tell, that last sores have fallen off only in Moscow …

But all it, of course, nonsense. The most important thing - I in a life went for the first time by a horse! On mountains! And so long! In the end, sitting on horses, we even forced the river vbrod. To tell the truth, it was horrible: ice water rushed with mad speed, it was on a breast of a horse and if casually to break, … But all has managed! We have returned to office tired, however lost-free. Me and held apart with pride.

But here that was strange: we have not met any Apollo. I looked attentively and could not look through. Wild boars we again saw, time somewhere has in the distance flown goats. And here Apollos was not. Though we even have reached lines of snow. And have then gone down to the river. But any solar butterfly from sort Parnassiusov did not fly by in visibility limits.

After our safe returning Salim Sodykovich has arranged a dinner on which with its full complement there was a delegation of the Tashkent TV led by valorous novoobrashchennym riding Sottarom Dalabaevym, some huntsmen, main forest warden Hamid Nazarov, forester Parda Rustamov, itself Sodykov and I, too novoobrashchennyj. It was a perfect dinner with vossedaniem on pillows around koshmy on which local foods were restricted, and we drank something a lung, intoxicated, however rather rather, that answered courageous and ascetic spirit of our campaign. And Salim Sodykovich as the hospitable owner proclaimed toasts in honour of visitors, and we answered with short grateful speeches. And only one circumstance stirred unconditional our pleasure with Sottarom a little: we could not sit, and tried to be arranged somehow on one side …

And then Salim Sodykovich showed a small plantation of saplings of trees near to office - tiny trees archi, a maple, a honeysuckle.

- On two hectares archi on slopes it is landed every year! - with pride spoke Salim Sodykovich. - And still we sell saplings - this year fifteen thousand saplings have sold …

However at all riches of our experiences Sottara, I was satisfied with results of a horse campaign. Sottar on a secret - not to offend the owner of reserve - has told to me, that here, in its opinion, it is not enough animals: «What here to remove?» And I still with surprise comprehended that fact, that we and have not met Apollos.

Nevertheless I with pride walked in camp of the native expedition, and in accompanying Salim Sodykovich have allocated to me huntsman Igemberdy. From a horse whom generously the director also wished to give me, I have hasty refused.

As it is pleasant to return sometimes to the most reliable all the same to a way of movement - on shank's mare!

My friends have already started to render habitable deserted stony coast. However, on closer examination it has appeared not absolutely deserted: some bushes of a barberry, lean thickets grebenshchika, some grasses. Have met me hospitably. As well as in old camp, on that party of pass, the folding bed in tent of the chief of expedition has been put me. Last night, according to all members of expedition, was quiet. However rather cold.

10.

Also the life of expedition on the bank of the river Kyzylsu, in the wide gorge nicknamed us has begun «a devil's frying pan» because all day long the sun scorched mercilessly, and the shade was not, unless the bed curtains brought, fortunately, though somehow protected from direct beams, but also that is unreliable, as under it the hot wind freely walked. To disappear from the sun there was no place literally, and the one who remained in camp, pined to loss of consciousness. However at night after a short and blissful evening cool there came a wild cold, and we merzli in tents and sleeping wadded bags though pulled on itself all brought clothes, and I personally thanked destiny that she has prompted to me to take a woollen sweater though I was going to so suddenly. Water in Red River ice, and at night with snezhnikov "flew down" also ice air, and all of us went with cold, shmygaja noses and incessantly rubbing nose bridge the Vietnamese balm «Gold star». Never earlier I had to face such sharp difference of temperatures.

Since morning the sun looked in our valley, and in the first, for the present its tender beams we got warm and optimistically perceived beginning day. At breakfast, naturally, there were the jokes, everyone planned for itself(himself) employment per day, and the validity appeared in pink light, short of the colds which have remained from night. But here the sun began again the daily torture …

In the first put, - is more exact, the first it was only for me, for all others it was the second day in camp on coast Kyzylsu - we have decided to go to traces of a dinosaur.

Generally speaking, we could visit well-known cave Tamerlana, but to it, according to Hamida Nazarovicha, was very far - kilometres twelve, and road difficult. Salim Sodykovich could give for us two horses - one for geographer Elena Alekseevny, another as if for me, but to me now and to think it was unpleasant about again to take seat in a saddle. Elena Leonidovna has refused too, and other hunters were not. Thus, our valorous Elena Alekseevna went to a cave as the unique representative of expedition of the Museum of the nature. As conductors, companions and bodyguards from it - not on horses, and on foot - there was huntsman Igemberdy and the post-graduate student-geographer, the teacher of rural school Oscar Haitov - full-faced, swarty and very cheerful person. It was in reserve for the purpose of gathering of materials for the dissertation about wildlife management of Uzbekistan.

I could go too with them, using the liked way of movement, that is on foot, but, to tell the truth, have not come to the senses yet definitively after yesterday's, and the main thing, me would be desirable to stay at last now to one. Again to join the world which demands loneliness, concentration and silence.

As well as yesterday, when we wandered on horses and my companions so thirsted to see someone from large representatives of fauna, and I with melancholy looked at picturesque glades which we left behind, and now beauty even most fantastic of caves could not distract me all from the same. Caves are wonderful, high mountains are perfect, large animals are curious. But nevertheless they are more habitual. Anyhow we already saw it. They in our, usual scale. And here travel to a mysterious jungle of grasses … Yes, I dreamt of him!

We have gone to traces of a dinosaur - to us was on a way with Elena Alekseevnoj, Igemberdy and Oscar – and at first kept all together. The hardened traces of a prehistoric animal, of course, interested me, but on a way I with excitement looked around, planning the future routes. Here an interesting slope, flat enough, "dense enough", over those stones butterflies flash, probably, between stones there is too any vegetation involving them …

«Trees, bushes, grasses - an ornament and earth clothes, - were recollected the words of well-known educator Jean-Jacques Rousseau written more two hundred years ago. - There is nothing is more sad, as a kind of district of the naked and deprived vegetation, anything not opening to a sight, except stones, silt and sand. But recovered by the nature and dressed in marriage clothes, among water sources and penja birds, the earth shows to the person in a harmonious combination of all three kingdoms a show full of a life, entertaining and obajanja, - the only thing on light which never tyres neither an eye, nor hearts …

Sweet smells, bright paints, the most graceful forms as if napereryv challenge each other the right to rivet on themselves our attention … and if impression it is perceived not by all whom influences at others it occurs in the absence of natural sensitivity, and at the majority because their mind too occupied with other thoughts, only is furtively given to the subjects amazing feelings ».

Yes, the rights, obviously, the rights there was this person still two hundred years ago, but now its words sound, in my opinion, even more sharply. «The show which never tyres neither an eye, nor hearts …» But has put, of course, not only in it.

«One more circumstance is the reason of that the attention of the people possessing taste, passes by a vegetative kingdom: it is a habit to search in plants only medicines and medical means, - Jean-Jacques Rousseau in« Walks of the lonely dreamer »continues. - Teofrast approached to business differently, and this philosopher it is possible to consider as the only thing botanikom antiquities; the truth, it at us is almost absolutely unknown; because of the great composer of recipes, certain Dioskorida and its commentators the medicine to such degree has taken hold of the plants transformed into raw materials for pharmaceutical medicines, that in them see only what in them it is not visible, - that is prospective qualities which to everyone counter and cross-section will take in head to attribute it. Do not understand that the flora can deserve some attention in itself … Stop on a motley meadow and start to consider one behind another flowers by which it is covered; Having seen it, you will accept for the doctor assistant and begin to ask from you grasses from lishaev at children, from an itch at adults or from sapa at horses …

These medicinal views, of course, cannot make botany studying pleasant, - Jean-Jacques Rousseau continues further, - it decolours diversity of meadows, brightness of colours, dries up freshness of groves, does greens and foliage hateful and disgusting. These graceful and charming combinations interest the one who wants only istoloch all it in a mortar very little, and nobody begins to spin garlands to shepherdesses from grasses for promyvatelnogo ».

Ah, as I understood now this old philosopher and the writer! I do not wish to tell, that me medicinal properties of plants - yes did not interest at all, I think, and Jean-Jacques Rousseau hardly wished to tell it! - but an essence of their existence, greatest of secrets - a riddle of Natural Harmony, the Life riddle as that - here that seemed to me to the most important things. Well also what, if we will cure any illness of the body by means of infusions and broths of this or that grass? For what we will cure this illness, for what purpose we will use then the sound body - here after all the main question. For this purpose only, that with the same success, as earlier to accept food, thoughtlessly increasing weight of the body? And, as well as earlier to wallow in vanity, to quarrel on trifles with near and far, to suffer from a lack of those or other things of an arsenal of the property and to spend, spend, spend what is given by the nature from a birth, anything standing in effect not getting neither for itself, nor for others? Whether for this purpose costs?

But if not for this purpose, for what?

We went to traces of a dinosaur, and I again and again considered this eternal question both again and again came to thought: for pleasure. Pleasures of life. For a life celebration on this Earth which, of course, does not consist of one only pleasures, and still for it. To That the eternal example, an eternal exciting riddle also gave to me an image of a blossoming, Dense Glade triumphing in the existence.

«Do not type on the shoulders of debts and duties which nobody charged you. Go joyfully. Waking up in the morning, bless the new blossoming day and promise to itself to accept up to the end everything, that in him to you will come. Creativity of heart of the person - in its simple bottom … It means both to struggle, and to study to be self-controlled, and to fall, and again to rise, both to seize obstacles, and to win them. Perhaps, outwardly not always it is possible to win them. But internally they should be won liking».

Here words over which I too many times thought. They belong to philosophers of India.

11.

At the very beginning of deep and narrow gorge of the river Kalasu, inflow rough Kyzylsu, on an inclined equal calcareous plate the chain of traces was stretched, each of which was diameter of centimetres thirty. To immemorial times there was a huge animal on a dirt similar, obviously, on present our cement mortal, not suspecting that through millions years the biped beings settled across all Earth, opened it and built up with boxes of the dwellings, will consider with a sinking heart hardened dents.

Geologist Valentine Viktorovich Kurbatov has found out these traces for the first time only several years ago and the trace tashkurganskogo a dinosaur »has named them«. On age they are carried to time top jury, that is millions hundred fifty years ago, the exact size - 180x240 millimetres (it first seemed to me, that diameter of everyone of centimetres thirty). They looked trehpalymi, something reminded bird's, all chain consisted of twenty three prints and was rough, wavy - whether the animal did not hurry up and went, dreaming of something, whether not absolutely firmly kept standing. Dents were deep enough - matchboxes kept within them completely, if flatwise; distance between prints about metre.

- Look, what charm! - Lena Bogdanova has admired with the first.

- Is more tremendous, the truth? - Slowly Raphael also has considerably said, addressing whether to ZHore, whether to me.

- See, has left marks … - sceptically, as always, has noticed ZHora.

- dinozavrik small was, - has thoughtfully told Tahir as if estimating, it from it would make what stuffed animal.

- That them did not open earlier, how are appreciable! - has reasonably noted Olja.

- Yes saw for certain, only did not know, what is it, - Belief Grigorevna has explained.

- It is strange, that so were saved … As though specially, - has seriously told Olezhka, having corrected the points.

- And after all millions years to become crazy it is possible! – has added Olja.

- Look, trehpalye any as the bird's paws … it is interesting who it: a dinosaur or dinozavriha? And can, dityo? Small after all … Lena Bogdanova-has begun to argue.

And Elena Alekseevna left in the meantime together with the bodyguards on a mountain track. She has decided to visit these traces then, alone, now sat on a horse as the amazon, and men made also an escort - the way was coming them long …

So, if to judge on traces, the dinosaur has passed here not so big. And to us a little even it was strange, that here, the "material evidence" which has reached us from such deepest darkness of times, and we stand round inclined, almost steep plate, we look and we exchange impressions.

And I have thought, as we not clearly would look, from the point of view of the observer of that time if it was. Especially, probably, Elena Leonidovna Bogdanova in white wide-brimmed, very much to any city hat, and, maybe, I with the cameras, sparkling metal and glass parts on the sun. And it is final, harmonous charming Olja in the fashionable jeans and a white vest. And snub-nosed Olezhka in the big dark glasses. And artist Raphael with etjudnikom, paints …

To the most surprising that seemed to me, perhaps, as a hat, both cameras, and jeans, points, etjudnik and we - all this generation of the same Earth which has once generated also a dinosaur - after all quantity of the matter making globe, since then, probably, has not changed. Instead of whether could be so, what someone from us includes those atoms, and can be, even molecules which were a part of a body of that dinosaur?

And again - as at a meeting in the bus with old acquaintances on expedition - I have thought of time current, but only already in larger scale. And what will be on the Earth round this most calcareous plate with prints of years etak through one thousand? I do not speak about millions, and after all and they once pass …

But the most exciting for me was at all that then anybody from us standing now nearby, will not be - anyway our bodies for a long time will break up to making atoms and molecules. And the most exciting for me was that all of us now, standing near to traces, realised both, and this dizzy current of time. And if it will not be valid anybody from us though the plate, very probably, remains (that to it still any one million-other years?) what for then it is necessary also for us, and in general this our instant present comprehension? After all in the imagination and I, and each of us - even, possibly, the most younger, Olezhka, in the dark glasses and with the nouse-button which has peeled off from the sun - could easily and be transferred without ceremony and to depth of times back, that is retrospektivno, and, on the contrary, forward, that is is perspective. Whence at us this ability and why?

Well dinosaurs, good, they were lost, not having left even descendants, and here, for example, dragonflies … Prints of little bodies of dragonflies found in layers of the coal period that testifies to existence of immediate ancestors of present dragonflies approximately 300 million years ago (the same it is possible to tell about cockroaches and scorpions). However, those ancestors of dragonflies reached 75 centimetres in wingspan, but after all they, apparently, there were actually ancestors so, the genetic chain from generation to generation lasts continuously, and in each dragonfly, means, so much actually these "prints"!. And in general all dragonflies is as though "branches" of a family tree of dragonflies, but strekozinye «genealogical trees» - "branches" of all tree of a terrestrial life because ancestors at all here were as the scientists consider, one.

And so we stood at plate edge, and everyone thought of the, and then by turns climbed to traces - to be photographed. And then we have dissipated on a rivulet valley. I, of course, began to look narrowly at the butterflies thoughtlessly flitting over colours, having adjusted the perception on svetlokryluju with red and black stains. ZHora caught all insects successively - both creeping, and jumping, and flying, to it helped Olja. Elena Leonidovna, Belief Grigorevna and Olezhka collected plants for a herbarium. And artist Raphael has found to itself somewhere a convenient place in tenke and embodied mountain distances.

12.

Well certainly, me Apollos interested not only svetlokrylye. After all in own way inexhaustible were both each butterfly, and a bug, both a dragonfly, and a spider. Here after all such boundless field for attentive supervision, that not casually science about insects - entomologija - was now divided into set of branches. The expert in bugs, for example, it at all that the expert in butterflies or pereponchatokrylym. And though there are also general sections, such, as, for example, etologija – the science about behaviour of insects, but even in it can be outlined stratification, because among one only bugs, which is from two hundred fifty (according to one scientists) to five hundred (according to others) thousand kinds whom we only will not meet. Here and predators, and travojadnye, both grave-diggers-trupoedy, and earth-boring dung beetles, both parasites and their owners, and «fair workers», both "sly fellows", and "parasites", and "athletes", and «handsome men dandies», and careful, directly self-denying parents, and, on the contrary, «careless idlers», both "letuny-champions", and "runners", both underground inhabitants, and underwater, both inhabitants of caves … And each of kinds lives in the world sometimes rather strongly differing from the world others,  where    radiation level  , temperature, humidity, pressure very different, and at everyone the sense organs sometimes far from our understanding, the « life rules », the instincts, "troubles" and "pleasures", the way of a survival and sort continuation, the struggle …

At first my special attention spiders (I will remind, that they not insects, but insects - their main food), then have involved caterpillars, dragonflies, at last, butterflies. But also now I would not like to stop on any one group, for myself I have chosen a principle which is well expressed in words of the scientist: «Whatever form of a life we studied - from a virus to mamontova a tree, - we study ourselves».

And though now I again wished to find Apollo, a concrete kind of the butterfly, however I certainly understood, that "echoes", "reflexions" or, it is possible to tell, "prints" of that beauty personified and concentrated for me in the representative of family Parnassiusov, certainly are in each butterfly of any family, in a bug, in a spider, in a flower. Beauty uniting.

The nature at which some of us look etak haughtily, does not lie. It is the richest, various, prospering and constantly improved world in which we are created also. And in us, obviously, the same echoes, reflexions, prints … And great gift of consciousness allows the person to open and understand much, in particular to understand a great principle of unity of all terrestrial. But alas, the same gift gives the chance to people to lie, hate and can lead to destruction and, and all world of the nature of the Earth. Why?

What we all the same know about the person? What do we know about to ourselves? Why people at all distinctions among themselves in something nevertheless very much also are very similar? Why we all the same can understand each other and we understand, if, of course, we want, and - on the contrary! - we can not persistently understand, if for any reason we have on it no desire? And than in essence we differ from the «smaller brothers»? Whether we have outgrown them actually and if yes, in what?

Perhaps, in that ability to understand not only each other, despite distinctions, but also them, «smaller brothers» to understand all world in aggregate and to realise the responsibility in him?

«What eventually a role of the person in a nature kingdom?» - I thought again and again.

Both again and again I came to thought on enthusiasm and Dream. Here that definitely is not present at «smaller brothers»! Enthusiasm for something which directly are not meeting requirements of a physical survival in a material world, and propensities to Dream - not to pensiveness that it would be desirable to underline especially! - namely to Dream, concrete and real, accessible basically, but at the same time raising us, doing our existence full and multidimensional, realised.

And the main Dream is, of course, harmony the general. As on a prospering Dense Glade …

All world in itself to absorb and improve it through itself, to the extent of forces and understanding. Whether in it sense and a problem?

… And I looked on ZHoru, the person close to me, and thought that I like it for that, probably, that during the long period saw in him kindness displays - this not arguing requirement to do the world round myself better. Through itself.

As well as nine years ago so much (and we are already familiar), ZHora catches all successively, filling up a museum collection. More correctly, not everything, and representatives of each kind. Attentively examines the caught small insect, defining its sort and a kind, knows practically everyone, but constant uncertain thoughtfulness does not descend with its kind and the person who have considerably grown old now. Similar, he has become puzzled, has wallowed, "has sunk" in this world - the diverse world of arthropods from which nevertheless so it is difficult to pass to other world, to the world of people. Something extraneous as it seems to me, has interfered with its existence once … I know uneasy his life and, looking on it, liking it, I see, how is necessary, as vital to the person Dream. Concrete, really achievable, let not always clear the stranger, but secret. And uniting. To find, find the Dark blue bird, though from afar to look! Where to go behind it more and more, in what - let the most difficult! - expedition?.

13.

In the evening of the same day I have decided to go tomorrow since the morning on pass. That Tashkurgansky pass which we passed on a way here.

I do not know, why I have decided to go there, instead of to depth of reserve. Perhaps, because did not see Apollos during a horse campaign, maybe, therefore still, that wished to visit again thrown kishlak Tashkurgan, a source Both-winters-winters, to look at mountains. And can be, and more on any not to reason absolutely clear to me.

On pass! Twelve kilometres it is quite accessible, as is expensive is.

- Well who with me on pass? - I have thrown a call in the evening.

However those were not …

Our valorous Elena Alekseevna has returned from a campaign to a cave late at night, already in full darkness (all of us worried, and especially, of course, ZHora as the chief of expedition), but even at the night, got tired, the traveller could not be kept from expression of the delight:

- Ah, you cannot present to yourselves as it was magnificent, I am assured, what is it the best day for me. Such road enchanting! We went at the top, is direct on snezhnikam because could not be forwarded through small river Aksu, went down on a very narrow, dangerous path … the Cave amazing - stalactites and stalagmites, only is very cold - everything, that was, have put on myself, sleeves have lowered, it is good, that clothes took. On a return way went down in darkness, under the moon, only the dragon was afraid - there gjurz much, but, thanks God, has managed. After all gjurzy not only by the ground creep, they and on branches trap extraction, all could be … Wild boars on a watering place saw, and in a cave - centre traces, but, the truth, not Tamerlana …

- And butterflies white with the red have not met? - I have asked, rejoicing for it.

- No, you know, I specially attentively looked. Many butterflies, but all others. Big at all was not …

I sincerely rejoiced for Elena Alekseevnu, but some participants of expedition have concerned its delights frostily enough. Why? Perhaps, because worried not only for it, but also for happy end of all expedition? But I have not for the first time noticed, that some concerned it cool enough. It and the truth constantly kept aloof, in the mornings did gymnastics, as well as I, only on other party of tents, and in general was felt in it aspiration to independence. Perhaps, she has erected a wall among themselves and others?

- You will think, a cave has visited. Well also what? - The total estimation of those who already never in that cave will visit was approximately such now.

And I thought that the relation of associates to the person develops accordingly to its character, and there are people who push away from itself something concrete, for example greed, cruelty, frankly egoistical bents, meanness, and is such which avoid for other reason. But it always tragedy. Each person is in own way lonely, it too is known for a long time to all. But after all and here the Dream, concrete business to which the person is given with all enthusiasm, - rescue from loneliness because one carried away always will understand another same though will be, maybe, to a hoarseness, before mind obscuring even to argue, that a subject of its hobby, undoubtedly, more adequately, than a subject of the opponent. Here that unites - Dream!

And more … «Believe not in miracles out of you, and in a miracle living in you to the love drawing to all fire of heart of the passer. Not that day consider happy which to you has brought something pleasant, and when you have given to people heart light … Moving further on a perfection and knowledge way, the person realises, that is not present in general another's and. That there are anywhere and everywhere same people as he» is too from revelations of wise men of India. And whether about that most speaks experience of travellers of all times?

Yes, here, on the bank of ice Kyzylsu, I have once again recollected these words.

More recently I have read Michel Pesselja's the most interesting book, the French geographer, the ethnographer-traveller which one of the first has visited two small states, mislaid in remote mountains of Tibet, - the Mustang and Butane. There are they for a long time, but, cut off from other world, develop absolutely independently. And here in the mid-sixties of the XX-th century the thoughtful and serious European, skilled enough traveller who has achieved with the big work the permission of local authorities, has visited them. What he there has seen?

To answer this question in detail, it is necessary to read the book (it and is called: «Travel to the Mustang and Butane». M, publishing house "Thought", 1978). But some places from it have made especial impression upon me, and I wish to result three fragments here.

Michel Pessel describes the visiting dzonga (fortresses) Tongsa in the state Butane and conversation with trimponom («the master of the law». - JU. A) which represents the higher local authorities.

«Trimpon has presented me to the daughter, the beautiful girl of years of sixteen; short-haired hair gave it very modern kind. She has been dressed in long, to toe, the checkered dress fastened on shoulders by stamping silver fasteners. I would not distinguish it from young men habitual to me though she could see never in a life the car or to hear radio. She did not suspect about existence of lady's wear shops or fashion whims, and when she will marry and will give birth to the child, it will not carry in clinic. And still anything or to be exact, almost nothing allocated it from circle of contemporaries in the West.

We were contemporaries - it, her father and I. We absolutely equally reacted to pity and compassion, anger and displeasure. We laughed loudly over the same things and spoke in one language.

In the West often think, that toys of a "new" civilisation have made us others. It not so. Unless at this girl other dreams and desires? She too wishes to be happy and beautiful, to like and be liked, to stir with girl-friends, to draw attention. What business, what on butanke other dress? What difference, what it prepares at the centre, instead of on an electric plate or what music which is pleasant to it, not so is rhythmical?

I had not to search words though interlocutors in Butane sometimes and were surprised to a course of my thought. Surprise called only quality of clothes - I felt them kho, and they rumpled fingers terilen my trousers. In the rest all was clear and simple.

In what so-called progress consisted? Where signs of what I belong to more "advanced" civilisation? Really in knowledge of the fact, what silver nitrate is sensitive to light, what the cleared oil actuates the cylinder piston, and penicillin kills microorganisms?

Unless I could tell to the master of the local law, what we have found a medicine for a human hardship, have managed to give deeper meaning of the life or are capable to answer all questions, to resolve all doubts which overwhelm the person similarly in Butane, as well as in any other country? Near to trimponom Tongsy I was the child, and knowledge, pocherpnutye in Sorbonne and Oxford, turned pale in comparison with its wisdom … »

And hardly further Michel Pessel continues:

«We have lined the existence on sections and have killed unexpectedness. It the boredom of which the good part of inhabitants of the West complains, in my opinion, speaks. We have undermined the ability to struggle with uncertainty. Therefore each crisis takes us unawares and calls such panic. One of consequences of surplus of trust is a loss of resistibility. The slightest failure in the planned existence generates blind fear before absurdity miroustrojstva. In it the reason of all our"complexes", unknown butantsam.

Unlike us they are ready to unexpectedness and in a certain measure are seldom subject to disappointments. They are able where better us to enjoy the moment, accept a life such what it is, and try to take a maximum from happy event or the good luck which has dropped out on their share ».

And more hardly further:

«Generally speaking, subjects of an economic life as which we consider as generation of our culture, apparently, are environment derivatives. Why in Butane people"have invented"the same agricultural tools, the same clay pots, the same kegs and even the same architecture which we see in the European areas with a similar climate? The Indian or the Chinese wooden saddles, roofs of houses, the form of doors would surprise in Butane maslobojki, shovels on long handles, the plough size, combined in a court yard kizjak and tolstobrjuhie