I have always admired those nameless but important people of mankind who gave the world their brilliant inventions. It was given because their creations are so brilliantly simple that once they have seen it, anyone can repeat the miracle: Fire Wheel, Steam, Luke Riding, and not enough.
Each of these things divided human history into “before” and “after.”
It's not for you any sluggish iPhone, from which soon will take money even for charging the battery...
Truly great discoveries – unmistakable and comprehensible – I have seen, swallowed, applied, and you have the feeling that your entire tribe has been working only for you.
And for me as a director and a seeker of strong emotions, the reaction of people to a miracle has always been interesting.
I was lucky one day. I have seen with my own eyes how the ancient people, who carried loads on them all their lives, saw the wheel for the first time.

Winter in the Ivanov region. The sleeping forest. The operator and I came to film a documentary about local crafts. We were brought in by a student from Finland, Ilma. Finka, like a Finnish, small, strong as a taburet, cheerful, company and speaking Russian. No burden at all.
The concentrated Ilma ran with her camera over the deep snow and with her thick clothes she managed to press a button.
“The Rec.” Diploma work is not a hookah.
The woodsmen were afraid of us and were kind and welcoming, for we drank tea with their governor yesterday. Little, suddenly he to thirty-degree frost even the wind will leave them, then in general the pipe.
The filming was fun and boycotted, otherwise you could have frozen.
I measured the length of the shadows from the pine trees, then put a rod in the snow and pretended the ratio of its height to the length of the shadow, divided, multiplied, counted the steps and got the point to which the top of the spinning tree should fall.
Then in this place put a camera (at least without an operator) and Ilmu
(which, for some reason, believed my calculations, because I was silent that in the school of geometry I had a hard couple).
Everything went like oil. The woodcutters “smiled” the trunk in the right direction, and the powerful hundred-year-old pine trees with threshold rolled precisely to the feet of our staff and the valleys of the brave Finn.
However, we didn’t bother and decided to take a break for a hot tea.
The woods were torn - one began to boycott the wood for the fire with a gasoline, the second tapped the place, the third used the tractor behind special armaturins and a hammer to hang the tea tree over the future fire.
The fourth pulled a huge bowl with the wires attached to it and boasted that these wires were his personal invention, or before everyone had to hold the pen over the fire until the potatoes were baked.
We and the operator, in joyful anticipation, rubbed our hands and only Ilma, with a supplication in her voice, asked:
- And you can first hot tea and lunch, and then fire and other winters.
The fun? Sorry, but I was very cold.
The woodcutters looked around stupidly laughing, but realizing that in Finland everything is not like in Russia, tried to patiently explain that we may not know like you, but in our forest on thirty-degree frost it is impossible to make tea without a fire. This is a cute girl, there is no gas or rosettes. So I have to wait. Here Sanya will cut a couple of branches and there will be a fireplace, then you will warm up.
Ilma understood nothing about the gas or the rocket and said irritated:
- So I ask - you don't need a fire - it's a long time, just make a fire -
Tea to boil and warm.
Here, the woods were already slightly strained, one even in a joke, or seriously stretched the fireplace to the Finnish.
She took it, pulled it into the stove and asked Sani for a gasoline.
Sanya gave it.
And the Finn from the beginner director instantly turned into a fairy little robber. Licho cut out a large pollen, thirty centimeters in diameter from the pine, and put it on a thork, it turned out to be her belt. We watched her as children for the wizard, it was seen that the seam was the same familiar thing for her as for our girls fan.
Further, she began to cut the pollen along like a cake, but not to the bottom - so that it did not break down into pieces. Only four cuts.
Then the Finn opened a cover and poured a few drops of oil out of the steel pile into the center of the wooden cake, slightly blushed the gasoline from the tank, gave the owner the unit, removed the ignitioner from the boiler and kicked it.
From the beginning of its work, until the appearance of the real gas plate passed exactly a minute. After ten, we all drank mint tea, and a potato with saliva was already shrinking on the wooden shell. The fire did not need to beined, it burned on its own - beautifully and precisely burning pollen from the inside, as if a clever gas balloon structure was hidden in the middle of the barrel. And it did not last five or ten minutes, but almost an hour.
Oh, what picturesque faces were in the former woods. It's a pity that the camera froze, or that it would be filmed for history. At first, they were suspiciously whispering waiting for the subwoofer, but when they realized that the subwoofer would not be and that their life was divided into "before" and "after", they already poured out the soul with joyful interdomains:
Hue...
About them...
You are your mother... well.
From her... b...
If Ilma suddenly shouted, “On your knees! »
I have no doubt that the woods would fall.
No one was working that day anymore, they were tearing each other’s seals and building wooden bourgeoisie, still not believing in their happiness.
And when we left the forest in the body of the tractor, we were accompanied by a snow field decorated with dozens of magical lights and joyful running people who, from that day on, no longer needed wood, no mangal, no wire on the bowl.

Would you know how pleasant it would be to be at least praised to Prometheus...

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