The end of March wraps the forest in a subtle, expectant atmosphere. The back of winter has been broken, and the air smells of the damp forest and the awakening earth.

A deep, restful stillness prevails in the woods. The rain has just ceased, but its traces still linger in the branches: the rain-drenched trees are heavy with droplets that fall softly onto the moss and sodden leaves. The scent is fragrant.

In the midst of this peaceful dripping, a long-awaited sound rings out. A blackbird has returned from its migration and chosen a tall birch in its home forest as its singing perch. Its flute-like, rich, and slightly melancholic song fills the calm moment.

The song does not break the peace, but rather deepens it. It is a promise of the coming spring.