WINTER TALE

Winter morning. Train hard to climb up the hill, panting ...We are standing on the platform of the last car. Fir-trees, which lined up with two orderly rows along the narrow-gauge railway, are greeted us and are giving to us its heavy of snow paws - branches. That's the last station of narrow-gauge railway Borjomi - Bakuriani. Finally we are on the mountain resort of Bakuriani, located at an altitude of 1700 m above sea level on the northern slope of the Trialeti Range. It was here that from the tops of the mountains Bakuriani originate Borjomi springs.

Sleigh with the horse waiting for us. We sit down comfortable there, sheltering themselves with warm fur rug and continue our way along the narrow, capriciously curving streets . The mountain village is behind us, but ahead of the open space covered with snow-white carpet. Here at this pristine infinity we have learned first touch, warming each other with our breath. We run, sinking knee-deep in snow, sparkling under the winter sun with thousands of diamonds. Tamping snow we move back to the village. More step, then another, and here we are sitting in a warm tavern, lit glow of the fire in the fireplace, in a cozy corner with a glass of warm red Bordeaux. Reflections from the fire can not eclipse the fire in our eyes. We are silent and smile ... Our faces radiate tranquility of a happy couple, we are immersed in one another, time has no power over us. In memory occur the words of Russian Romances:

"Only once in the life occur meeting,

Only once thread breaks by fate ,

Only once in the cold winter evening

I want so much to love. "

The logs, exuding a lovely scent of the forest, happily are crackling in the fireplace. In the square of window, decorated by frost, came evening with dancing snowflakes. We hear ringing of the bell - the ringing of eternity ... It seems our lives crossed true love ...