We are accustomed to the fact that flights of stairs are just an intermediate part of the journey, and we rarely pay attention to them, or even prefer to take the elevator. In this list you will learn about the most incredible, beautiful and dangerous stairs in the world, the ascent and descent of which is a whole adventure and a separate pleasure!
1. Stairs of Angkor Wat Temple, Cambodia
The steps leading to the entrance to this temple are located at an angle of 70 degrees, and such a difficult climb was designed specifically to constantly remind the monks of the thorny path to Heaven. Tourists can use rope railings or even specially equipped “easy” stairs, but the most adventurous temple visitors climb up, as Hindus have done for many centuries.
2. Verr?ckt water slide staircase, Kansas, USA
To get to the very top of this staircase, you will have to climb as many as 264 steps. The attraction is located at the Schlitterbahn Waterparks and Resorts amusement park in Kansas. Make a 51-meter climb up spiral staircase necessary to then go down one of the highest and fastest (up to 110 km/h) water slides in the world – Verr?ckt. The first section of the descent is an almost vertical fragment 15 meters long. Unfortunately, in the summer of 2016, a 10-year-old boy died on the ride, and the slide was closed to the public. It will probably be completely dismantled soon.
3. Half Dome, zip line, Yosemite national park, California, USA
To climb to the top of Yosemite's most famous granite rock, you'll first have to hike about 11 kilometers uphill through wild forests and then climb another 122 meters along the peak's vertical slope. If you are not a professional climber, you still have a chance to go to the top - for example, using the iron cables of the local via ferrata. If you do not want to die, for such an ascent you need to get suitable shoes and wait favorable weather. If the humidity is too high, the shoes are slippery, and the hands are sweaty and weak, the adventurer will face certain death. Why take such a risk, you ask? They say that the view from this rock is simply incredibly beautiful!
4. Inca Stairs, Machu Picchu, Peru
The ancient city of Machu Picchu sits atop a mountain range, so it's no surprise that the only way to get here is via stepped terraces carved by the Incas at least 500 years ago. The walk will not be easy, because the local stairs are carved right into the granite rock, they are often slippery and covered with a foggy haze, so if you are not confident in yourself, it is better not to even try.
Every day, no more than 400 people can visit the highest point of Machu Picchu, so as not to crowd and inadvertently throw anyone down. Some dangerous areas of stairs are equipped with metal chains, but most of The ascent is still a path, on one side of which a smooth and wet wall awaits the one who stumbles, and on the other, an abyss over the Urubamba River. In 2010, about 2,000 tourists were stranded in the Machu Picchu area, unable to leave because heavy rains washed out access roads. Foreigners could only be evacuated by helicopter, and the site was closed to the public for almost 4 months. Local residents of the nearest town also found themselves completely isolated from the rest of the world.
5. Statue of Liberty, New York, USA
If you dream of looking at New York almost from the very top national symbol America, first make sure that you are not afraid of heights and confined spaces. The observation deck, located right in the crown of the famous Statue of Liberty, unfortunately, is not equipped with any elevators, and to get to this tiny room you will need to overcome an eerie flight of stairs, which is a spiral staircase with one and a half meter gaps, and 146 steps long. The most adventurous and athletic visitors climb all 377 steps from the entrance to the complex to the crown room, which is comparable to the height of a 20-story building.
6. Fl?rli Stairs, Lysefjord, Norway
The abandoned Flørli power plant in the town of Lysebotn is one of the most extreme attractions in Norway, and the stairs of this plant are... the main thing cause. The climb consists of 4,444 steps, and the height from the bottom to the top of such a takeoff is approximately 1,600 meters. This is the longest wooden staircase in the world, and only the most resilient tourists can climb it!
7. Heavenly Stairs of Mount Huashan, China
Official data on the number of steps on the slope of this Sacred Mountain There is still no Taoism. Perhaps people simply don’t have time to count because of the horror they experience in places. When the traveler finally gets to the very top of Huashan, another terrible traverse along a hanging bridge awaits him, and the reward for all his work is a rest in the most remote teahouse in the world. They probably make very good tea there!
8. Aiguille du Midi, Alps, France
This staircase is not that steep or high, it looks quite reliable, and the railings on the sides seem more than safe. Then what is so special about this place? The thing is that these steps lead to one of observation platforms at the top of the Aiguille du Midi. The mountain is located in the western part of the Mont Blanc massif, and walking along the stairs at an altitude of approximately 3,777 meters above sea level is still a pleasure, given the bone-chilling high-altitude winds and the roar of avalanches. You can get here by gondola lift, the first station of which is in the town. In the summer, tourists in flip-flops find themselves in the middle of real winter in just half an hour, although some travelers come here in full mountaineering gear and on completely different paths.
9. Moaning Cavern, California, USA
To get to the heart of the Moaning Cavern, you need to go down a 30-meter spiral staircase, built here in the early 20th century. The accessible part of the cave shaft is so spacious and high that even the Statue of Liberty would fit here.
10. Haiku Stairs, Oahu Island, Hawaii
These stairs are so scary that since 1987 they have even been officially closed to the public. 3,922 steps run along mountain range Koolau has been around since 1942, and is so dangerous in places that local authorities They posted guards to prevent outsiders from going upstairs. Some tourists still sneak past the guards and then proudly post videos of their exploits on the Internet. In 2014 and 2015, 11 such heroes were arrested, and 463 people paid large fines. By the way, the stairs originally appeared here to lay cables to the US Navy base, and not for walks and photo shoots.
11. Derinkuyu Stairs, Cappadocia, Türkiye
Since a whole underground city, more than a thousand years have passed (or even two thousand). Experts are not sure why this amazing complex was built. Perhaps right here local population sheltered from raids and other dangers. People lived in this shelter until the 10th century, and then the dungeon was empty for almost 11 centuries. In 1963, the city was discovered again, and 2 years later it became a popular Turkish attraction. They say that on this moment no more than 15-20% of all passages and tiers have been studied.
12. Staircase of the Milan Cathedral (Duomo di Milano), Florence, Italy
The solemn building of the Cathedral of the Nativity of the Virgin Mary is fraught with unexpected secrets. It looks airy and bright, it hides crazy flights of stairs, which will certainly make those who can’t stand it sick. confined spaces. All these narrow corridors and the stairs have seen many reverent pilgrims and inquisitive tourists over several centuries. To climb to the very top of the cathedral you will have to climb 463 steps. But as soon as an incredible view of the city opens before your eyes, all fatigue disappears as if by hand!
13. Batu Caves, Malaysia
Outside of India, this place is one of the most significant Hindu shrines. The cave temples are located inside the mountain at an altitude of approximately 100 meters from its foot, and the only way getting there means climbing a 272-step staircase. In appearance, the stairs seem quite safe, but do not rush to relax. Here, agile and impudent monkeys scurry around everywhere, trying to steal your wallet or handbag. There is a known case when two tourists were so carried away by playing with animals that they rolled down the stairs.
14. Exorcist steps, Washington, USA
The stone staircase at 3600 Prospect St NW in Georgetown became famous after the release of the legendary horror film The Exorcist (1973). IN cult film These steps became the site of the fatal fall of Father Damien Karras, who entered into battle with a demon. Several stuntmen were then invited for filming.
15. Spiral staircase, mountain range Tien Shan (Taihang), China
Not far from the town of Linzhou, lost in the picturesque Tien Shan mountainous area, a real “Stairway to Heaven” appeared. The bizarre design allows you to climb 100 meters to the very top of the ancient rock and enjoy the delightful views of mountains and forests. Brave tourists are allowed onto the stairs only after signing a signature confirming that the traveler is in good health and under 60 years of age.
16. Paris catacombs, France
The Paris Catacombs are a network of underground tunnels approximately 1.5 kilometers long. Initially, there were ancient Roman quarries here, and at the end of the 18th century, a underground cemetery, where the remains of almost 6 million people were brought over half a century. Today, these catacombs are open to the public and are considered one of the creepiest attractions in the country (and the world). To get into these gloomy tunnels, you will have to say goodbye to the Parisian sun and climb several flights of stairs, which themselves also look quite scary.
17. Cedar Creek Treehouse Observatory, Mount Rainier National Park, Washington, USA
Everyone should visit here, but not many people get the chance yet. The cabin in this photo is actually a hotel with an observatory built right on top of a 200-year-old cedar tree. To get there, those who want to will have to climb a 25-meter spiral staircase, which is also the only cantilever staircase in the world built into wood. For those who are afraid of heights, such a climb may seem overwhelming, but all the efforts and hardships will more than pay off once you find yourself in the hotel itself.
18. Staircase of the Sagrada Familia, Barcelona, Spain
The legendary church is a project of the late Antoni Gaudi, and its construction has been going on for more than a hundred years (since 1882). The cathedral combines both traditional religious iconography and architecture, as well as elements inspired by nature itself. For example, the columns and flights of stairs of the church were conceived as stylized trees, whose tops form the vaults of starry domes with their crowns, and the steps from the photograph resemble a sea shell. Climbing and descending along them is not the safest activity, because one careless movement and you can easily fly down through central part stairs, because there are no fences here.
19. “Stairway to Hell”, Hashima Island, Japan
Few people have not heard of this abandoned mining town. Once an uninhabited Pacific island that came under Japanese jurisdiction, Hashima was filled with concrete and forced to settle with coal miners. In the 1970s, local mines closed and Hashima became a ghost town. Abandoned houses are slowly but surely being destroyed, but this staircase does not seem to keep up with the general rhythm of decay. Previously, such steps led from residential buildings directly to the workplaces of prisoners of war and other poor souls who were brought here against their will for slave labor.
20. Chand Baori Well, India
The famous 30-meter well with stairs is located in Indian state Rajasthan. The complex appeared here around 800 AD, and it consists of 13 floors and 3,500 steps. The unusual structure serves both to collect water, which is very important in this rather arid area, and as a collection point. local residents on the hottest days (the temperature here is 5-6 degrees lower than outside). Chand Baori looks simply incredibly beautiful!
Was it difficult for you to play the accordion? Heavier than the lyre?
When I was little, I kept asking my grandmother: where is my grandfather? She didn't speak. But one day she answered: “Your grandfather lies in the damp ground under three birch trees.” I didn’t understand anything then, I began to inquire: why in the damp ground and where are these three birches? But the grandmother was silent. She is still silent. When I grow up, I will find your birch trees and plant forget-me-nots near them.
In the photo you have an icon - a gear wheel. On the wheel there are letters - GTO: “Ready for labor and defense.” It means you were ready, since you were given such a badge and you went to war. You no longer know what happened after the war.
You don't even know that you have a granddaughter, Natasha. That she goes to school in the second grade and that she has two A's, one B and one C in her quarter. C in mathematics. It's not my fault that I confuse division with multiplication, I left hand I confuse it with the right one. I just can't get used to it.
I love going to the forest to watch wildlife. When a woodpecker hits a tree with all its strength with its beak, I am afraid that by the evening it will have a headache. One day I found a dried leaf in the snow. He looked like a frozen mouse with a tail. I also know a tall aspen tree with a hollow. If you press your ear to a green trunk in the spring, you will hear chicks squeaking in the depths. And it seems to me that this is music.
You, grandfather, don’t know that you have an order in addition to the GTO badge. Real, fighting. Patriotic War 2nd degree. You didn't have time to receive it. The order was given to my grandmother. I noticed the place where my grandmother hides it. And when no one is home, I take out your order and look. It is heavy, and when you press it to your cheek, it feels cold on your cheek. If you returned home, you would wear it on your jacket. Very beautiful.
Grandfather, in last battle did you shoot with a rifle or play the lyre? Even grandma doesn't know this. And I think that the rifle was hanging on your back: you walked ahead of everyone and played the lyre to make it easier for them to fight. And when you fell... it became difficult for them again.
There were also battles in our forest behind the swamp. The boys go there for rusty remains. They are collected like mushrooms. And they bring home green cartridges, bayonets and helmets that look like empty shells... I also go to the military forest. But I don't need shrapnel and bullets. I'm looking for the string from your lyre. I look under the trees, in the grass, in the raspberry thickets, in the rye field. Sometimes it will sparkle like a cobweb in the sun and disappear. Sometimes I hear it. It sounds somewhere very close - either in the singing rye, or in the depths of an aspen trunk, or in myself.
Tallest staircase
He had an amazing passion for climbing. On his way he did not miss a single staircase. Whether it was a rickety stepladder that shook and could fall to the ground at any moment, or an iron fire escape attached to the outer wall of the house, he put his foot on the crossbar and climbed. He also climbed trees and scaffolding, and climbed onto ski jumps and diving towers. And if there was a ladder from the Earth to the Moon, he would not hesitate to go on a long journey along it.
All the stories that Verkholaz ever found himself in were connected with his desire to climb as high as possible. One autumn day he wandered through an empty park. The cool sun was shining. Small tornadoes rushed along the asphalt paths with a dry rustling sound, corkscrewing fallen leaves. There were almost no visitors. The rides didn't work. And here the Verkholaz came across the Ferris wheel. He threw back his head, but was not afraid; on the contrary, he was drawn to the heights. He grabbed the cold bulkheads of the metal truss and climbed. He climbed calmly, and below, at the foot of the wheel, the watchman rushed about.
Get off! They tell you, get off!.. I'll take you to the police... I'll take you...
Where there! All threats remained on the ground. The steeplejack stopped only after reaching the top of the Ferris wheel. Down there, the watchman was numb with fear for him. He no longer swore, but bit his fist so as not to scream and scare away the little madman with his scream. During the years of service as a watchman, no one had ever risen to such a height. Even when they were repairing the attraction, they stayed close to the ground. The watchman was sure that an accident would happen: the little one would become dizzy and lose his balance. Nothing like this! The steeplejack sat astride the wheel and reluctantly began to descend.
When he found himself on the ground, the watchman did not say a word. He just waved his hands at the boy: get out of sight, out of harm’s way! The steeplejack ran to the side and looked back. The openwork Ferris wheel seemed to him to be part of a giant bicycle, accident victim: one wheel froze lifelessly, the other rolled off somewhere.
That same day, he climbed the fire escape onto the roof and lay in the sun, watching the flight of pigeons and the slow movement of the clouds. He did not understand people who were terrified by heights. At the top he felt in his native element - he did not feel dizzy and his knees did not weaken. Apparently, when creating it, nature added something that belonged not to people, but to birds.
It was the first month school year. After the free summer flood, the guys had difficulty getting back on track school life- the desks seemed cramped to them, and the lessons were long: the nanny forgot to call. And Verkholaz seemed to resign himself to life on the first floor. When the rain drums from morning to evening and the window is lined with crooked grooves, it doesn’t pull you up. It’s even hard to imagine it when there are low, smoky clouds around.
On Sunday, Verkholaz and his class went to the Circus. He walked there without any lifting: everyone is going - and I’m going. And at first he looked at the arena with boring eyes. The circus orchestra tried in vain - the cheerful marches and gallops did not achieve their goal. The steeplejack was gloomy and looked at the performance with such indifference, as if every day he saw plates being tossed and heads thrust into the mouth of a lion.
Only when the action moved under the circus dome did the Horseman seem to wake up from his stupor. His eyes lit up. He heard music, saw colored lights, and finally lived the circus life. Aerial tightrope walkers performed. They somersaulted in the air and performed tricks on swinging trapezes. They seemed to fly like birds and their strong wings were simply not visible from below. If Verkholaz had gotten there and spread his arms out to the sides, he too would have flown over the circus. A familiar itch awoke in Verkholaz's chest. He was pulled upward. And while the performance was going on, two forces fought in him: one kept him in place, the other, like a spring, pushed him into the arena.
The show is over. Everyone rushed to the exit. They started making noise, pushing each other, stepping on each other's heels. The steeplejack sat still and looked at one point: the two forces continued to fight.
Teacher Nina Mikhailovna approached him and, shaking his shoulder, said:
Why are you sitting?
I'm coming! - Verkholaz answered and continued to look, as if spellbound, at one point.
Nina Mikhailovna did not notice that Verkholaz’s gaze was riveted on a narrow rope ladder, which began in the center of the arena and disappeared somewhere above, in the dark sphere of the dome. Now or never!
No one paid attention to how the Verkholaz got up from his seat and, pushing the guys aside, rushed down. He stepped over the barrier of the arena and approached the stairs. Calmly he grabbed the round wooden crossbar, planted his foot and lifted himself off the ground. The stairs were unusually soft, springy underfoot and swayed slightly from side to side. It was somehow creepy on her. But this did not stop Verkholaz. Easily moving his hands over the smooth crossbars, he rushed upward.
And then he was noticed.
Someone pointed it out to Nina Mikhailovna, and she shouted:
Come back now! What are you doing?
But it was too late. The steeplejack felt the proximity of his native element and, quickly moving over the wooden crossbars, moved away from the ground.
There was confusion below. Nina Mikhailovna ran out to the arena and shouted:
Come back! Come back now!
But he didn't hear her voice. I didn’t see the teacher waving her hand to him: come back! He moved along the cells of the rope ladder towards his goal. Nina Mikhailovna looked after him. With every step the boy became smaller, and it seemed that soon he would completely disappear, forever move from the earthly element to the element of clouds, birds and kites.
What is he famous for, your cyclist?
Before the war, everyone in our city knew him. He was the only boy who had his own two-wheeler. Won it by lottery ticket Osoaviakhima.
With a lottery ticket?.. Lucky!
This exclamation seemed to come from my childhood. A photograph immediately appeared before my eyes, depicting a boy in a striped T-shirt and a cap with a large visor. One hand gripped the steering wheel, the other lay regally on the saddle. Lucky!
No, they objected to me, he was not lucky. On the day our city was liberated from the Nazis, he was blown up by a mine along with his bicycle.
A strange connection arose between me and the “lucky” cyclist. It was as if we had once known each other, even before the war, in childhood, when he was actually lucky, and I never became the owner of a bicycle. I haven't even learned how to sit in the saddle. For some reason I remembered the dimly lit workshop, smelling of kerosene, and smoky hands, as if the hands of a master had been taken out of the fire... “And then he blew himself up along with his bicycle.”
I learned that the cyclist really dreamed of becoming a racer, and he was seen on the roads every day, he even rode on the first snow. But when the war began and the city was occupied by the Nazis, he wrapped his car in an oily rag and buried it in the ground. But the city residents still continued to call him the Cyclist.
He appeared on his bicycle on the day when the Nazis, fearing encirclement, left the city themselves. He rushed through the empty streets of the city like a harbinger of liberation, and was as happy as if he had just won a bicycle with a lottery ticket. During the years of occupation, he had become stretched out, and to prevent his knees from resting on the steering wheel, he had to put them to the side. And it’s very funny when a tall guy rides a small bicycle. There is even such a number in the circus. He did not forget how to ride and did not give up his dream of becoming a racer. Maybe on this first day of freedom he went to his first training session. And the city residents perceived his appearance on the streets as a return of good times.
People looked out of the windows and shouted to him:
Hey, Cyclist, let's push all the hardware!
And he pressed, as if he wanted to ride at once for all the long days when the bicycle was lying in the ground. He deftly avoided shell craters, the burning houses breathing elastic heat into his face. The women looked after him and cried. No, they did not know that he would be blown up by a mine - they cried with joy that freedom had returned.
By evening our tanks appeared in the city. They walked in a dense column, shrouded in a heavy cloud of dust, and their steps made the houses tremble as if from earthquakes. The tanks hurried after the retreating enemy; they had no time to stop in the liberated city.
And then the Cyclist followed the tanks. Next to the heavy fighting vehicles, the bicycle seemed like a funny insect, like a long-legged water mosquito. He didn't roll, but jumped broken road, disappeared into clouds of dust and appeared again. The tanks pressed him to the side of the road and every minute they could accidentally catch him with a caterpillar and crush him. But it was not for nothing that the Cyclist was going to become a racer; the car obeyed him and carried him away from danger. And he again rushed along the column, as if he was participating in an unusual race of cyclists and tank regiment…
I looked at the blackened steering wheel, and it seemed to me that it was not rust, but scale from the fire. The bicycle became like this not at the bottom of the river, but at difficult battle, where he fought alongside real fighting machines. My childhood dreamy idea of a bicycle suddenly returned to me. It brought me closer to the little Cyclist, and I suddenly realized: no, he couldn’t have died by accident!
I managed to find his pre-war student notebook: thick, oilcloth, checkered. It was covered with tasks. Two pipes fill one pool. Two trains left city A for city B at the same time... What can a math notebook tell you about? But it was the Cyclist's notebook. I patiently leafed through it, as if I were looking for the answer to a mystery in ordinary school problems. And suddenly in the middle of the problem about three pedestrians
I read the word “bank” written completely out of place. Two pages later I discovered another foreign word, “school.” The third word - it was written hastily, larger than the rest - “bridge”. Bridge?! So it all happened on the bridge! The bridge was mined. This means that the Cyclist knew about this and included the bridge among the objects that the Nazis, retreating, mined. He did not sit idle, this lucky man who won a bicycle with a lottery ticket, he fought the enemy as best he could! Became a volunteer scout.
Then I wandered around the city, still trying to find the street along which the tank regiment was walking and the Cyclist was racing with it. It suddenly seemed to me that I could hear the dry crackling of a steel transmission snake somewhere close by and the spokes flickering like the propellers of a flying airplane, turning into silvery discs. I saw a Cyclist in a striped T-shirt, growing out of his bicycle and hastily moving his knees away so that they would not rest on the handlebars. Here he is rushing along the steel column of a tank regiment, dodging the sparkling tracks. He overtakes tank after tank to be the first to reach the bridge. He became the combat guard of a tank regiment and must save the tankers from a secret attack by the escaping fascists. He rushes into battle, and the tankers think that the boy is stunned with joy, they laugh and wave at him. They don’t hear him shout: “The bridge is mined!”
He manages to overtake all the tanks. And he, having swallowed dust, is the first to break out to the river and again shouts and waves his hand... The tanks do not stop, do not understand his signal, do not hear.
The bridge is mined!
The lead tank is approaching. The commander leaned out of the hatch and fired into the air:
From the road!
And the Cyclist understands that he cannot stop the tank. He is in last time looks around. The bicycle is already losing balance from the slow speed. Then the Cyclist presses his chest against the steering wheel, presses the pedal with all his might and drives onto the mined bridge before the tank...
Leaves grow on trees
This little girl came to me on the way. I walked along the shore, and she walked along the shore. Then she came level with me and said in a deep voice:
I have a comb. Do you want to comb your hair?
“Thank you,” I responded, “but I have nothing to comb my hair with.”
“Hair,” said the girl.
I have almost no hair.
The girl looked at me and my hat incredulously.
Where did they go?
“They have fallen,” I said. - Do you know how the leaves fall in the fall?
Don't know.
She apparently had experienced so few autumns that she didn’t remember how the leaves fell, and I had to explain to her:
In autumn the leaves turn yellow and fall to the ground. And in the spring new, green ones grow.
Why won’t you grow new ones, since it’s already spring?
Two large gray eyes looked at me expectantly, looked and demanded an answer to the question. They, these eyes, were sure that an adult could answer any question, that’s why he was an adult. While I was silent and pondering the answer, the girl asked:
Will my hair fall off too... and not grow back?
No no! Not a single hair will fall from your head. And when you get old, your hair will turn white.
How's the cheese milk?
Cheese milk?!
I don't like it, but I eat it. They force.
Only then did I realize that we were talking about yogurt. I laughed. The girl also laughed, and I realized that she knew how to say it correctly, but she was used to saying “curd milk” instead of “yogurt.”
We walked along the shore, along the wet and unsteady turf, which bounced under our steps like a mattress. And nearby the muddy, high water was bubbling and it smelled of snow and ice - the remnants of winter. The growing April sun warmed me and, out of habit, stung my face. It was equally pleasant for me and my companion.
Sometimes my grandmother takes me by the shoulders, pulls me towards her and looks into my face for a long time. And then he says that I look like my grandfather, that is, like you. Is it similar? Your hair is cut into a clipper and a cap sits like a patty on your head. And I have braids. I haven’t combed them since I slept, and they are rough, as if they were filled with straw from the fire. Your eyes are big and surprised - why are they surprised? - and my eyes are like two slits from sleep. I look in the mirror and try to open them wider so that they become like yours. It even hurts me, but nothing comes of it. Slits. Now, if I wear your cap and tunic with buttonholes, I’ll probably become like you. Only I don’t have a cap or a gymnast. Dresses and sundresses.
For some reason you don’t have guns or tanks on your buttonholes, but small sign, similar to cow horns. What is this sign? Grandma says - lyre. And this means that you are a military musician. We have a large orchestra in our club - trumpets, violins, balalaikas, pianos. But there is no lyre. I asked at the club about the lyre. They shrugged their shoulders and said: “The lyre was played only in ancient times.” They understand a lot in the club! The lyre is a military instrument. It is played during war. And the strings of the lyre are special, strong, so that they do not burst from explosions.
If you were with me, we would go together to the forest, to the lake and to the swamp for lingonberries. Otherwise, dad always has no time, and he gets tired, because he’s older than you, grandpa. I would take you to the field to listen to the rye sing. The wind sways the stems, and a quiet, clear ringing rises over the field. It’s as if there are not stems around, but strings. You listen to them, and your heart begins to beat very often. This is probably how the strings of that military lyre sing: in a low voice, so that the enemies don’t hear, and their own hearts race.
Grandma says that you used to play the button accordion and she fell in love with your music. In our village, everyone loved you for your music, because no one played the button accordion as well as you. Not a single holiday would be complete without you. Old people remember. They were young then, like you... I play your accordion. Or rather, I’m just learning. The button accordion is huge, heavy, clumsy, and keeps sliding off my knees. And for it to breathe, it must be stretched and then squeezed with all your might. I'm already playing Polish. Just very slowly. And when I play, I get tired, as if I were running to the forest without a break.
Was it difficult for you to play the accordion? Heavier than the lyre?
When I was little, I kept asking my grandmother: where is my grandfather? She didn't speak. But once she answered: “Your grandfather lies in the damp ground under three birch trees.” I didn’t understand anything then, I began to inquire: why in the damp ground and where are these three birches? But the grandmother was silent. She is still silent. When I grow up, I will find your birch trees and plant forget-me-nots near them.
In the photo you have an icon - a gear wheel. On the wheel there are letters - GTO: "Ready for labor and defense." It means you were ready, since you were given such a badge and you went to war. You no longer know what happened after the war.
You don't even know that you have a granddaughter, Natasha. That she goes to school in the second grade and that she has two A's, one B and one C in her quarter. C in mathematics. It’s not my fault that I confuse division with multiplication; I also confuse my left hand with my right. I just can't get used to it.
I love going to the forest to watch wildlife. When a woodpecker hits a tree with all its strength with its beak, I am afraid that by the evening it will have a headache. One day I found a dried leaf in the snow. He looked like a frozen mouse with a tail. I also know a tall aspen tree with a hollow. If you press your ear to a green trunk in the spring, you will hear chicks squeaking in the depths. And it seems to me that this is music.
You, grandfather, don’t know that you have an order in addition to the GTO badge. Real, fighting. Patriotic War 2nd degree. You didn't have time to receive it. The order was given to my grandmother. I noticed the place where my grandmother hides it. And when no one is home, I take out your order and look. It is heavy, and when you press it to your cheek, it feels cold on your cheek. If you returned home, you would wear it on your jacket. Very beautiful.
Grandfather, in the last battle did you shoot with a rifle or play the lyre? Even grandma doesn't know this. And I think that the rifle was hanging on your back: you walked ahead of everyone and played the lyre to make it easier for them to fight. And when you fell... it became difficult for them again.
There were also battles in our forest behind the swamp. The boys go there for rusty remains. They are collected like mushrooms. And they bring home green cartridges, bayonets and helmets that look like empty shells... I also go to the military forest. But I don't need shrapnel and bullets. I'm looking for the string from your lyre. I look under the trees, in the grass, in the raspberry thickets, in the rye field. Sometimes it will sparkle like a cobweb in the sun and disappear. Sometimes I hear it. It sounds somewhere very close - either in the singing rye, or in the depths of an aspen trunk, or in myself.
Tallest staircase
He had an amazing passion for climbing. On his way he did not miss a single staircase. Whether it was a rickety stepladder that shook and could fall to the ground at any moment, or an iron fire escape attached to the outer wall of the house, he put his foot on the crossbar and climbed. He also climbed trees and scaffolding, and climbed onto ski jumps and diving towers. And if there was a ladder from the Earth to the Moon, he would not hesitate to go on a long journey along it.
All the stories that Verkholaz ever found himself in were connected with his desire to climb as high as possible. One autumn day he wandered through an empty park. The cool sun was shining. Small tornadoes rushed along the asphalt paths with a dry rustling sound, corkscrewing fallen leaves. There were almost no visitors. The rides didn't work. And here the Verkholaz came across the Ferris wheel. He threw back his head, but was not afraid; on the contrary, he was drawn to the heights. He grabbed the cold bulkheads of the metal truss and climbed. He climbed calmly, and below, at the foot of the wheel, the watchman rushed about.
Get off! They tell you, get off!.. I'll take you to the police... I'll take you...
Where there! All threats remained on the ground. The steeplejack stopped only after reaching the top of the Ferris wheel. Down there, the watchman was numb with fear for him. He no longer swore, but bit his fist so as not to scream and scare away the little madman with his scream. During the years of service as a watchman, no one had ever risen to such a height. Even when they were repairing the attraction, they stayed close to the ground. The watchman was sure that an accident would happen: the little one would become dizzy and lose his balance. Nothing like this! The steeplejack sat astride the wheel and reluctantly began to descend.
When he found himself on the ground, the watchman did not say a word. He just waved his hands at the boy: get out of sight, out of harm’s way! The steeplejack ran to the side and looked back. The openwork Ferris wheel seemed to him to be part of a giant bicycle that had suffered an accident: one wheel froze lifelessly, the other rolled off somewhere.
That same day, he climbed the fire escape onto the roof and lay in the sun, watching the flight of pigeons and the slow movement of the clouds. He did not understand people who were terrified by heights. At the top he felt in his native element - he did not feel dizzy and his knees did not weaken. Apparently, when creating it, nature added something that belonged not to people, but to birds.
It was the first month of the school year. After the free summer flood, the children found it difficult to settle into the strict routine of school life - the desks seemed cramped to them, and the lessons were long: the nanny forgot to call. And Verkholaz seemed to resign himself to life on the first floor. When the rain drums from morning to evening and the window is lined with crooked grooves, it doesn’t pull you up. It’s even hard to imagine it when there are low, smoky clouds around.
On Sunday, Verkholaz and his class went to the Circus. He walked there without any lifting: everyone is going - and I’m going. And at first he looked at the arena with boring eyes. The circus orchestra tried in vain - the cheerful marches and gallops did not achieve their goal. The steeplejack was gloomy and looked at the performance with such indifference, as if every day he saw plates being tossed and heads thrust into the mouth of a lion.
Only when the action moved under the circus dome did the Horseman seem to wake up from his stupor. His eyes lit up. He heard music, saw colored lights, and finally lived the circus life. Aerial tightrope walkers performed. They somersaulted in the air and performed tricks on swinging trapezes. They seemed to fly like birds and their strong wings were simply not visible from below. If Verkholaz had gotten there and spread his arms out to the sides, he too would have flown over the circus. A familiar itch awoke in Verkholaz's chest. He was pulled upward. And while the performance was going on, two forces fought in him: one kept him in place, the other, like a spring, pushed him into the arena.
The show is over. Everyone rushed to the exit. They started making noise, pushing each other, stepping on each other's heels. The steeplejack sat still and looked at one point: the two forces continued to fight.
Teacher Nina Mikhailovna approached him and, shaking his shoulder, said:
Why are you sitting?
I'm coming! - Verkholaz answered and continued to look, as if spellbound, at one point.
Nina Mikhailovna did not notice that Verkholaz’s gaze was riveted on a narrow rope ladder, which began in the center of the arena and disappeared somewhere above, in the dark sphere of the dome. Now or never!
No one paid attention to how the Verkholaz got up from his seat and, pushing the guys aside, rushed down. He stepped over the barrier of the arena and approached the stairs. Calmly he grabbed the round wooden crossbar, planted his foot and lifted himself off the ground. The stairs were unusually soft, springy underfoot and swayed slightly from side to side. It was somehow creepy on her. But this did not stop Verkholaz. Easily moving his hands over the smooth crossbars, he rushed upward.
And then he was noticed.