The Green Valley

“A lightning bolt struck the rock with a dry crack, was thrown aside, and plunged into green earth… The foal was only a month old—this was the first lightning in the short life of its first month. It hid under its mother’s belly and, with perked-up ears, listened a little to how the rain drummed on the oak leaves. Then it peeked out, saw a rock, a bush of dog-rose, an oak—it blinked and forgot that it had been afraid of the lightning. It seemed as if it had come to its mother, because suddenly it wanted milk…”

From the archives of the Gosteleradiofund.