Тыква

In the hush of an old kitchen, sunlight barely pierces the wooden planks, casting long shadows over a scene of quiet preparation. A pumpkin, cut open to reveal its fibrous heart, sits ready for transformation. Nearby, a heavy pot and wooden spoon hint at simmering soups or stews to come. The knife, resting beside the board, speaks of recent labor, while scattered seeds and a worn cloth add texture to the moment. This is not haste, but reverence—a pause in the cycle of harvest, where nature’s bounty is honored with care and simplicity. The atmosphere is one of warmth, tradition, and the quiet satisfaction of hands working with the earth’s gifts.