One summer, the morning after he arrived, at dawn, Vasily quietly went outside. I heard the gate close, ran up to the window, and saw him passing by, heading toward Mount Piket. For some reason, I always worried about him, as he was very adventurous. I woke up mom. At first, she wanted to call out after him, ‘Where are you going?! ’ But I said, ‘People at the other end of the village will hear you shout. Let’s just follow him.’ He walked slowly, and we, two terrified crows that we were, dragged after him at some distance. It was four o’clock in the morning, and the village was already preparing to wake up in silver dew. The roosters were crowing back and forth as if competing to see who could sing a louder and more beautiful song… Vasya invited us to climb higher and meet the dawn together. He would stop, smack his lips with pleasure, and raise his hands up and out to the sides as if he were pumping himself full of air. He said that one could scoop up that air with a bath ladle and get drunk with it. We had no idea that nature — the turquoise dawn in his home village — helped him so much in his work. It was as if he got energized from it, and Mount Piket was his launching pad. He didn’t know back then that he would soon land forever…