August is gently drawing to a close, leaving us with the warmest, most piercingly golden days
The steppe sun no longer scorches. It gently caresses the grasses faded by summer, spilling a viscous light, like transparent honey. The air is thick and warming, permeated with the scent of dry wormwood and the earth cooling overnight.
At such moments it seems that time slows down and nature freezes at its highest point of harmony.
The shores of the region's numerous steppe lakes are now bustling with a completely different life. The water, having absorbed all the sun of the waning season, resembles liquid glass. But it's difficult to discern the reflection of the bottomless blue sky. A veritable bird colony has gathered at the water's edge—enormous, vocal, and incredibly vibrant. The air literally trembles with this bustling celebration. One can hear the deep quacking of ducks, the ringing laughter of gulls, the thin whistle of sandpipers, and the sharp squawks of coots. Thousands of wings whip the lake surface into white foam.
The birds bustle about, preen their feathers, take off, and then settle back down, as if celebrating a grand fair before a long journey.
This incessant hum fills the steppe with a wondrous energy. We involuntarily freeze, trying to absorb this last warmth of the fading summer.
However, behind this dazzling beauty and seemingly carefree joy lies a fragility that makes the heart clench.
This noisy carnival on the lake is more than just a vacation. It is the last respite before the great and cruel test—the autumn migration.
Very soon, this vast colony of birds will leave their home and set out on a journey thousands of kilometers long. A journey that, for most of them, will be their last.
At extreme altitudes, above foreign lands, seas, and deserts, exhaustion, inclement weather, and predators await them. This is natural selection, a cruel law of nature.
But the most tragic thing is that humans have added their own, far more destructive, factors to these natural difficulties.
Lake drying up due to reckless water consumption, the whistling of lead by poachers, reservoirs polluted with chemicals, and endless power lines—the human trail stretches across the globe.
Birds die from causes they cannot predict or avoid, and all too often, we ourselves are to blame for this tragedy.
Looking at a sleeping steppe lake and listening to its polyphonic chorus, it's impossible not to reflect on how vulnerable this life is. And how this fragile world, arriving to us every spring, demands from us not just contemplation, but also the utmost caution and protection.
