The morning of our life For most people, their childhood is the brightest and the most striking period of life. We usually recollect our past with kindness and fondness in our hearts, as long as social position and way of life allowed us to live properly. When I was a child, I had nothing to complain about. I was born on the 10th April 1997 in Moscow in a family of two university tutors. A funny thing to notice is that I was given a green bow in the maternity hospital, while all the other children were given either pink or blue one depending on their gender. I still haven’t got any proper explanation about it. However, it makes me smile more than embarrassed. Another thing that turns up easily in my head when I’m thinking about my childhood is the affection of my granny. I didn’t attend a kindergarten since she could babysit me. I remember our walks in a park, which seemed to be much longer than they actually were. And I think I remember every leaf, every grass and tree that I met. Birds and dogs, air and light, everything was as mesmerizing and magnificent, as anything that I have seen till now and probably will never see again. For most people, their childhood is the brightest and the most striking period of life. But why? Nature doesn’t change for us, and our opportunities and abilities grow with time. Yet we change. The moment comes and we stop noticing the beauty of the world, simple and sincere things stop mattering for us. And we become blind and deaf to our happiness. What is the secret of happiness? Maybe it is the ability to remain a child as long as possible? Is there a way back to this condition of curiosity? Can we still find happiness by discovering nature depths? All we can do is go to a park and try. The attached painting is "The Birch Grove" (1879) by A.I.Kuindzhi.