A few days ago, I had such an unforgettable experience that I still smile every time I think about it. For four days, deep in the mountains, we cut and carried poplar trees using nothing but human strength—no heavy machinery at all. It was both exhausting and incredibly rewarding. During breaks, we brewed tea in a samovar and drank it with laughter. And in the evenings, when I returned home, my grandmother’s warm house, the bread baking on the stove, and my aunt’s potato-filled flatbread made me forget all my tiredness. In this blog, I want to share not only those labor-filled days in nature, but also the warmth of family waiting at home.
With the first light of morning, we would begin working among the poplar trees. Some of us operated the chainsaw, others cleared branches, while others carried the logs. One day, the saw blade broke, and everything came to a halt. At one point, we even faced the danger of being trapped under a massive tree. Supporting one another, we carefully kept working. In those moments, the power of solidarity became our greatest source of strength.
After trimming the 3- and 4-meter-long trees, we loaded them onto trucks. Some we had to roll down the slope to get them to the road, a task that gave us chills yet reminded us once again of nature’s raw power. The truly massive ones—15 to 19 meters tall—required tractors to pull them. As the roar of the tractor echoed through the mountains, we supported with ropes, doing our best to guide the trees safely.
Our feet were constantly pricked with thorns, and our hands hardened with calluses. But even though the workload never really lessened, teamwork made it easier. Nature gave us both challenge and peace at the same time. The scent of pine, the sound of birds, and the hum of the chainsaw all blended together, making us lose track of time. Whenever we grew tired, we set up the samovar, pouring steaming tea into glasses as its smoke rose into the sky. The pleasure of that tea in the cool mountain air is something you can’t find anywhere else. Some of us drank quietly, others joked around, and some just stared at the view. Even a simple glass of tea felt like a celebration.
Meals had their own special rhythm too. We prepared dishes at the butcher’s in aluminum trays, had them baked in the oven, and picked them up piping hot during breaks. Those meals were the sweetest reward after hours of hard work. Even after sunset, the work didn’t stop—we kept loading trucks until nine at night. By the time the stars appeared, we were still in the forest. Returning home with heavy but peaceful steps was a happiness like no other.
At the end of the four days, my grandmother’s warm house welcomed me back. The smell of bread baking on the stove erased all my exhaustion. My aunt had prepared potato-filled flatbread, one of my favorite childhood tastes. That evening, it became the sweetest reward of all. The crispy dough and warm potato filling nourished not only my body but also my soul. Around the table—my grandmother’s smile, my aunt’s busyness, the warmth of home—reminded me once again how precious family ties are.
Those four days taught me so much. I saw what human strength can achieve when united through solidarity. I was reminded of the true value of sweat and labor. And most importantly, I realized again that happiness hides in the simplest things: tea brewed in a samovar, bread fresh off the stove, and hard work shared with friends in the mountains. These are the memories that will keep me smiling for years to come.
And so, our four-day adventure came to an end—tiring, yet filled with joy. That short time in nature reminded me of the worth of labor and the beauty of small joys. I hope that while reading, you could almost taste the tea from the samovar, the bread from the stove, and the warmth of family. In the rush of life, sometimes it’s worth pausing to cherish the simple moments. Find and share your own little joys too. For now, take care—and until the next story!