The summer, soft tropical breeze slipped over the deep waters of the latent Sevan in the darkness, then it became cool as an awakening kiss and touched the fishman’s newly awaken face. The sleep fled immediately from his eyes. The fishman untied the boat from the shore, threw the net and the nipple into the boat and nestling himself entered the darkness of lake Sevan.
Early in the morning the jay woke up from crunch of the water and
drew a big circle in the sky with a swing, waking up the sleeping fauna and flora of Sevan.
The more the fishman deepened in the darkness, the slower the darkness surrendered its place to the light. The fishman looked into the sky and murmured his daily song that had become his prayer, hoping that the day would bring him nice fishery:
The breeze came
The sun rose
Bread to human
Glory to God!
The bird sang
The wind blew
The lake shook
The fish is full
As if expecting for the prayer, the sun opened its eye from the Geghama mountains, slid its shade over the turquoise mountains, molded into the depth of the water and Sevan woke up. Even the waves that seemed to be asleep, began to bump on the shore actively and got lost in the rocky sand as a foam.
The jays began their dance with the peep of dawn, once touching Sevan, then aspiring to the sky. They were making their own prayer. The color of Sevan that was changing every minute, was reflected in the fishman’s satisfied smiling eyes. They were of the color of Sevan.
The fisher looked at the juniper and oak, fluttering in the distance. He listened to the woodpecker tapping and the stork making loud sounds. The poppies and doves began having breakfast on the shore. The voice of an awakening baby was heard beyond the trees. The fishman smiled. The house had waken up. He caressed the coolness of Sevan from the boat and paddled to the shore. He constantly approached the shore with his net full. In his back the sun rose and the waters of Sevan turned golden. A naughty seagull jumped out of the reed and joined his friends in the gulls’ island. Sevan turned greenish blue.
Author: Shushan Karapetyan
Photographer: Mkhitar Manukyan
In all the seasons of the year we are the ones who provide your New Year’s magic- a magic when the hours’ count, the safe flight and warm atmosphere reverse the geographical boundaries. And this photo story is your New Year’s magic- with us.