Winter persists, with no signs of spring in sight.
In the tranquil heart of autumn, a day unfolded amidst the young birch grove and the undulating land. Claire and an unnamed companion found themselves walking through this windless haven, the earth firm beneath their feet.
The sun, hidden behind stormy clouds, cast milk-white light over the open field, where green grass waved glistening in the wind. A flock of sheep, led by a shepherd and his loyal dog, swirled around them, adding to the peaceful scene.
Suddenly, the serenity was disrupted. Claire was grabbed and carried away down the slope, her laughter echoing through the air. The shepherd's dog barked out a long line, its barks reverberating through the grove.
Meanwhile, on the small hill they had stood, a wind swept over the path, carrying a beetle along. Farther down the path, white cloudberries were being picked by someone hidden in the bushes.
The strong wind continued to blow during the morning, tugging at their hair and sweeping an empty path clean. Yet, in the midst of the wind, the lindens lining up in the fields stood tall and firm.
As the day progressed, the storm from yesterday had cooled, marking the beginning of the first fall days. The sun, now emerging red and freezing in the fall air, cast a warm glow over the landscape, painting it in hues of orange and red.
In the end, Claire and her companion crawled out, dusty but laughing, having spent a day immersed in the beauty of the countryside. The author of the novel "Rheinsberg: Eine Liebesgalerie für Liebhaber" from 1912, Kurt Tucholsky, would have surely appreciated this idyllic scene.
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