All along the fence surrounding the poultry yard, swallows sat, restlessly chirping to each other, talking about many things, but thinking only about summer and the south, because autumn was already at the threshold - a north wind was expected.
One day they flew away, and everyone started talking about swallows and the south.
“Perhaps next year I’ll fly to the south myself,” said the chicken.
And now a year has passed, the swallows have returned. They sat down again on the fence, and the whole poultry house discussed the impending departure of the chicken.
Early in the morning the north wind blew, the swallows took off at once and, soaring in the sky, felt the wind filling their wings. They were infused with power, strange ancient knowledge and something greater than human faith. Flying high, they left the smoke of our cities.
“The wind is probably right,” said the chicken, spread its wings and ran out of the poultry house. Flapping her wings, she jumped out onto the road, ran down the embankment and ended up in the garden.
In the evening, breathing heavily, she returned and told the inhabitants of the aviary how she had flown south all the way to the highway and seen the greatest flow of cars in the world rushing past. She was in the lands where potatoes grow and saw the grains that nourish people. And finally she got into the garden. There were roses in it, beautiful roses, and the gardener himself was there.
“Amazing,” said the entire poultry yard. - And how picturesquely told!
Winter has passed, the difficult months have passed, the spring of the new year has begun, and the swallows have returned again. But the poultry yard would never agree that there was a sea in the south.
- Listen to our chicken! - they said. The chicken has now become an expert. She knew what it was like there in the south, although she couldn’t even leave the town, she simply crossed the road.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru