Rabbit, Soldier, Angel, Thief - by Katrina Nannestad

Chapter Three

It’s spring, 1942. The sky is blue, the air is warm and there are flowers everywhere. In our garden, dancing between the vegetables, we have crocuses, larkspurs, daffodils and daisies. We have five cherry trees, all loaded with blossoms. Bees buzz around the delicate pink flowers – like fat ballerinas fussing at the sight of so many tiny pink tutus. I saw a picture of a ballet dancer once. She was skinny and strong, but I prefer my fat buzzing ballerinas. Beyond our garden, the village is blooming, too: lilac bushes, violets, lupins, a whole orchard of apricot and almond trees in blossom, and more cherries. Even the meadows stretching out from the village are filled with flowers: chamomile, wild yarrow and cornflowers. So many blue, blue cornflowers. All of Russia is blooming. I’m six and a half, which means that I’m old enough to wander out of the house on my own. I feel grown up and important as I roam the meadows and pick wildflowers for Mama.

17