Meeting with a predatortranslated

The village of Varnaki, Nolinsky district, is lost far from the highways. It seems that she is stuck on the border between two worlds: civilization and wild nature, past and present, between dull abandonment and stern solidity. I remember its best years, when the evening street was filled with the moist breath of cows returning from pasture, and fresh milk flowed in every fence. The village of Varnaki has always been an island of economic prosperity and food abundance. Almost 40 years ago, our relatives bought a spacious log house here and with curiosity began to examine the wide barns, cramped storage rooms, dark cages and cool cellars. In one of the rooms a door was found to be tightly closed. The new owners knocked on the walls for a long time, listened, checked every corner and crack, but they could not open the door. And yet her secret was guessed. One day, one of the new residents accidentally pressed a secret lever in the next room, and the locked door opened.

Behind the threshold was a real pantry of nature: chests with dried blueberries, raspberries and currants, birch bark boxes with mushrooms and other foodstuffs, laid in layers and carefully packed for long-term storage. Either...