Lada & Grustinka
Lada Lada
Grustinka Grustinka
Lada Lada
Hey Grustinka, have you noticed how the heavy autumn rain feels like a quiet blanket over the fields? It reminds me of the old stories my grandma used to tell about the harvest. What do you think?
Grustinka Grustinka
Yes, the rain drapes the fields in a soft hush, like a forgotten lullaby. It feels as if the sky is weeping, and every drop is a memory of your grandma’s stories, wrapped in a quiet, bittersweet silence.
Lada Lada
That’s a lovely way to picture it. When the rain falls like that, I think of the old wooden barns and the smell of fresh hay. It’s a quiet moment, but it keeps us connected to the past. What’s your favorite memory of grandma’s stories?