Oh, beautiful winter in the vastness of the Russian land! Such beauty is rarely seen. And with our modern technology and too advanced life you will not notice at all. But you just have to leave the city, a little further than all the highways. Just turn onto a road forgotten by cars and you get into something about such magnificence. There are still places in our outback, when in the winter evening the sun, leaving for the night, leaves something pink-red in the sky.
They say that this is to severe cold. But judging by the canvas, it’s not hot here anyway. Snowdrifts of snow, but the stream did not freeze. Covered only with a weak crust of snow. In the distance, a village is visible, to which a path in snowdrifts has already been trodden.
Late peasants hurry to the houses, and in the sky flocks of birds fly to the forest, also hurry for the night. It is already slowly starting to get dark, even the snow loses its whiteness and becomes somehow white and blue. Winter completely took possession of nature, completely took power in their snowy hands. But the one who lives in the village is not afraid. Since the autumn, firewood has been harvested - it will not freeze, products brought or grown in the garden - they will not starve. True, the work has become smaller, but there is a lot to do around the house. And spring is not so far, only some three months of a cold.
In such weather, peasants always found something to do in the evenings. It happened that they gathered in huts and told stories to each other. And it happened, if anyone is literate, they were going to listen to how he reads either a book or a newspaper. Over time, they began to gather to listen to the radio, and as television appeared, so all in their huts and fled. Here it is! It turns out that all modern is ruined by simple communication.
Savrasov here did not embellish anything, but depicted as is. He showed all the beauty of Russian winter evenings. You look at all this and wonder.
Arlesian Van Gogh