Persimmon

She always appears suddenly. You walk along a street covered with autumn fog along gray trees, still keeping cold drops of recent rain on their bare branches. Among the fantastic smell of rotten land, resting after a bountiful harvest. Enveloped in myrrh of smoldering leaves, carefully collected by the janitor in small chaotic heaps. You are damp and dank, and it seems that you can reach out to the clumps of clouds hanging from the gloomy gloomy sky. You turn the corner and the world turns over, because you see it - surreal bright, in the magical orange flashes of hundreds of Suns - the most common persimmon.
And you are not so damp already, and the sky seems to be clearing, and it even seems that the birds are happy for you, because of this they have something in common with each other. Especially that jay with a bright blue plumage screaming to the women: “look, look, he also saw this miracle”. “Miracle, miracle,” the others echo. Really a miracle, you think and thank God for bringing you to the foot of Anuria Mountain in the vicinity of beautiful Batum.
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(from the book “I love khachapuri”. V.Garnikyan, 2019)
Illustration: the picture "Persimmon" - 50x40 cm, oil on cards, oil, 2018. (in stock)
A source:https://garnikyanart.blogspot.com/2019/05/blog-post_20.html