If you walk along the path for a long time, which is winding among rocks and hills, and then runs away into the forest, you come to the stream, through which there is no bridge or ford. Not too narrow, but not too wide, it flows along the ravine, and you have to go down to its shores very carefully. Here, the reed grows thinly and the toads in small factories, but the stream itself, rushing along the central channel, is very fast and cold, and the water in it is transparent and so clean that you can see the bottom sprinkled with sand and small pebbles and fish, blowing back and forth.
There is no place to rest: even if you stand for a little longer than a minute, the trail begins to gain moisture, but it is difficult to continue the way - to the other side of the river not to jump over, and the depth of the stream is large, the bottom seems to be deceptively close, but the water will gather with his head. It is possible to shave for a long time along the stream, until the slopes of the ravine will not come too close, will not overhang, shading even a fast stream, then it is necessary to climb upwards, clinging to the protruding roots.
And when you get up, you realize that it is too easy to fall, too far to jump on the other side and not to cross here.
A little further the stream suddenly floods with a small but dark lake. It also seems to be the brightest day in ink on the depth, though the middle of it is not shaded by the trees retreating from the coast.
A little farther from the swamp a new stream begins - wider and deeper than the previous one, already almost grown into the river, sounding and stormy, with a muddy bottom, in which it is so easy to get stuck.
It seems that there is no way to get to the other part of the forest, though come back and swim through an icy stream, hoping that the body heated up during the trip will cope with the sudden cold.
Or to forget about the road, admitting that these places are not allowed to go further.
Although...
If you still have to wait until sunset, then you can witness amazing things. This is the kind of thing to see and learn that only the patient one opens up.
***
When the sun rolls down behind a ridge of clouds in the west and dusk in the woods, a soft fog rises above the lake.
But now, when the fog is as if nothing is visible even at arm's length, steps appear.
Not everybody dares to follow this path, not everybody will dare to climb even a couple... But that's the trick. You don't have to be afraid! Each step here is stronger than marble, carefully stepping up, easy to reach the bridge, which rises far above the forest, bends a proud arch, neighbors with the stars full of stars.
This is where the second difficulty awaits. If you should have had the courage before, you will now have to gain the wisdom to detach your admiring eyes from the sprawling view.
You can't stay too long, it's a short-term witchcraft.
The magic foggy bridge doesn't stay in the air for very long but can collapse with one gust of wind. Then the dark surface of the lake will stir up, taking the hugs of a hapless traveler and keeping his secrets forever.
But whoever has managed to escape to the other side may rejoice - he won't have to get wet in icy water, and he will save his life. They say even though it is strange that there are such rumors, the health of the runaways is getting better as if youth is able to return such a journey. But risk-lovers still get a little bit.
***
...there'll be no trace of the bridge in the morning, and the fog will slip through the woods. He will fall asleep in the ravine, fall asleep on the edge of the ravine dew, and then the willows of the coastal earrings will decorate with moisture - he will have time everywhere. You can continue the way under the bird's hormone: dawn, the whole forest sings, trembling with wings, rejoicing at the new day. The lake will fall asleep again, its waters still seem quiet and deep, but as if they do not hide anything, and melt something at once.
Of course, the path will not be found at once - first you have to climb a hill covered with very young trees, then cross a rounded glade, where apparently, invisibly forest strawberries, and after that, the path seems to be just behind the hazelnut bushes.
In the evening the path will lead to the valley, the forest will recede completely, behind the hill will hide, the cultivated fields will soon begin, and there it will pull smoke from the nearest village.
We could be in a local brewery, even if it's a little one, for a mead party. Everyone here likes to listen to stories... But it is better not to mention the lake, not the time, not the place. They believe that if you talk about a magical bridge in vain, it will not rise again.
But everyone wants to go to the other side of the bridge in their old age. Find your youth. To look into her eyes...
Admit it, traveler, why were you looking for that creek?
Why did you walk along the stream for a long time, why did you wait for the night in the woods?
What were you looking for?
The same cunning smile appears on his lips, his eyes radiate with the light of stars, which can be seen from the bridge as if a piece of fog comes to life in his chest. Yes, he who crosses the bridge is really given a second life. But it's really hard to decide, oh, how hard.
You have to believe me.