It was frosty morning sunrise and windmill was just looking the Moon and enjoying the moment, when Sun started to rise and put it’s golden touch to the shoulder of windmill.
Birds are heading to north and sund moving down, it is time to go.
Standing in the river looking all this water flowing down the slope you just feel how all this energy what is coming down is building inside you and it makes you feel so great.
Every sunset has his own story, what he want’s to tell to us. Sometimes it’stired, sometimes it’s joyful, sometimes just singing quietly.
There are placies where fairytales born. You just need to walk with open eyes and you can find such placies. Some of them are painted, like in this picture.