Bereitor Dictionary of Russian synonyms. hunter noun, number of synonyms: 3 guard (3) huntsman ... Synonym dictionary

OBVIDER, huh, husband. 1. An employee who constantly travels around a large area of ​​territory for the purpose of protection and surveillance. Forest, field, water island. 2. Dressage specialist. Ozhegov's explanatory dictionary. S.I. Ozhegov, N.Yu. Shvedova. 1949 1992 … Ozhegov's Explanatory Dictionary

- “OBEYDER (short story in the film almanac “Special Case”)”, USSR, DEBUT (MOSFILM), 1983, color, 31 min. Drama. Based on the story of the same name by Evgeny Nosov. A victorious soldier returns to his native village after the war. Ignat quickly wins the best... Encyclopedia of Cinema

crawler- RUSSIAN, a, m Specialist in dressage of horses. A fathom away from them, in the darkness that covered the road, a saddled horse was dark, and next to it, leaning on the saddle, stood a man in big boots and a short cloak, by all appearances the master’s... ... Explanatory dictionary of Russian nouns

I m. The one who enters the detour III guards a section of some land. II m. Dressage specialist. Ephraim's explanatory dictionary. T. F. Efremova. 2000... Modern explanatory dictionary of the Russian language by Efremova

Obezdchik, obezdchik, obezdchika, obezdchik, obezdchik, obezdchik, obezdchik, obezdchik, obezdchik, obezdchikami, obezdchik, obezdchik (Source: “Full accentuated paradigm according to A. A. Zaliznyak”) ... Forms of words

BURDER- 1983, 31 min., color, “Mosfilm” with the participation of “Lenfilm”, 2v. genre: drama. dir. Alexander Bibartsev, screenplay Mikhail Varfolomeev (based on the story of the same name by Evgeny Nosov), opera. Anatoly Lapshov, art. Vladimir Bannykh, comp. Marat Kamilov, sound... Lenfilm. Annotated Film Catalog (1918-2003)

crawler- a rider, and... Russian spelling dictionary

crawler- (2 m); pl. volume/zdchik, R. volume/zdchik... Spelling dictionary of the Russian language

Books

• Stuntmen, Alexander Karin. Alexander Karin is an actor, stuntman and stunt director (more than 100 films), among them such as “Squadron of Flying Hussars”, “Yaroslav the Wise”, “Primordial Rus'”, “Young Russia”, “Peter...
• Favorite. American Legend, Laura Hillenbrand. Half-blind failed jockey Red Pollard, former Mustang buster Tom Smith and famous automobile magnate Charles Howard met in August 1936. To each member of this extraordinary team...

A.P. CHEKHOV

Near the wide steppe road, called the big road, a flock of sheep spent the night. Two shepherds guarded her. One, an old man of about eighty, toothless, with a trembling face, was lying on his stomach near the road, his elbows resting on the dusty leaves of the plantain; the other, a young guy with thick black eyebrows and no mustache, dressed in a line from which cheap bags are sewn, lay on his back, with his hands under his head, and looked up at the sky, where the Milky Way stretched just above his face and the stars were dozing.

The shepherds were not alone. A fathom away from them, in the darkness that covered the road, a saddled horse was dark, and next to it, leaning on the saddle, stood a man in big boots and a short cloak, by all appearances the master's rider. Judging by his figure, straight and motionless, by his manners, by his treatment of the shepherds and the horse, he was a serious, sensible man who knew his worth; even in the darkness, traces of military bearing and that majestic and condescending expression that is acquired from frequent dealings with masters and managers were noticeable in him.

The sheep were sleeping. Against the gray background of the dawn, which was already beginning to cover the eastern part of the sky, silhouettes of unsleeping sheep were visible here and there; they stood and, with their heads down, were thinking about something. Their thoughts, long, drawn-out, caused by ideas only about the wide steppe and the sky, about days and nights, probably amazed and oppressed them themselves to the point of insensibility, and they, now standing rooted to the spot, did not notice either the presence of a stranger or the anxiety of the dogs.

In the sleepy, frozen air there was a monotonous noise, without which a steppe summer night cannot exist; Grasshoppers chattered continuously, quails sang, and a mile away from the flock, in a ravine in which a stream flowed and willows grew, young nightingales lazily whistled.

The Rider stopped to ask the shepherds for a light for his pipe. He silently lit a cigarette and smoked the entire pipe, then, without saying a word, he leaned on the saddle and thought. The young shepherd did not pay any attention to him; he continued to lie and look at the sky, while the old man looked at the driver for a long time and asked:

No Pantelei from the Makarov economy?

“I’m the one,” answered the crawler.

That's what I see. I didn’t know - to be rich. Where is God coming from?

From the Kovylevsky section.

Farther away. Are you giving away a plot of land for hoarding?

Miscellaneous. And for savings, and for rent, and for bakchi. I actually went to the mill.

A large old shepherd dog, dirty white in color, shaggy, with tufts of fur around the eyes and nose, trying to seem indifferent to the presence of strangers, calmly walked around the horse three times and suddenly, with an angry, senile wheeze, rushed from behind at the handler, the other dogs could not stand it and jumped up from their seats.

Tsits, damn it! - the old man shouted, rising on his elbow. - Oh, may you burst, demonic creature!

When the dogs calmed down, the old man resumed his previous position and said in a calm voice:

And in Kovyli, on the very day of the Ascension, Efim Zhmenya died. Never mind that it would be a sin to guess such people, he was a filthy old man. I suppose I heard it.

No, I haven't heard.

Efim Zhmenya, uncle of the blacksmith Styopka. The whole neighborhood knows him. Oh, and a damned old man! I’ve known him for about sixty years, since the time when Tsar Alexander, who was persecuting the French, was transported from Taganrog on carts to Moscow. We went together to meet the deceased Tsar, and then the big road did not go to Bakhmut, but from Esaulovka to Gorodishche, and where Kovyli is now, there were dudach’s nests - every step, there was a dudach’s nest. Then I also noticed that Zhenya had ruined his soul and the evil spirits in him. I notice there: if a man of peasant rank is more and more silent, is engaged in the affairs of old women and strives to live alone, then there is little good here, but Efimka used to be silent and silent from a young age, but he looks at you askance, he always seems to be sulking and puffing up like a beer before the trigger. For him to go to church, or to go out on the street with the guys, or to a tavern - he didn’t have such a fashion, but more and more he sits alone or whispers with old women. He was young, and he was hired as a beekeeper and as a barnkeeper. It used to be that good people would come to him for bakchi, and his watermelons and melons would whistle. Once I also caught a pike in front of people, and it went ho-ho-ho! burst out laughing...

It happens,” Panteley said.

The young shepherd turned on his side and looked intently at the old man, raising his black eyebrows.

Have you heard how watermelons whistle? - he asked.

“I haven’t heard of it, God had mercy,” the old man sighed, “but people said it.” Little tricky... If the evil spirit wants it, it will start whistling in the stone. Before freedom, the skeleton hummed for three days and three nights. I heard it myself. And the pike laughed, so instead of the pike I shook the demon.

The old man remembered something. He quickly rose to his knees and, shaking as if from the cold, nervously thrusting his hands into his sleeves, babbled through his nose in a woman’s patter:

Save us, Lord, and have mercy! I once walked along the bank to Novopavlovka. A thunderstorm was gathering, and there was such a storm that the Queen of Heaven, Mother, forbid... I hasten as fast as I can, I look, and along the path, between the thorn bushes - the thorn was in bloom then - a white ox is walking. I’m thinking: whose ox is this? Why did the difficult one bring him here? He walks, wags his tail and moo-oo! Only, this is it, brothers, I’m catching up with him, I’m coming close, lo and behold! - and this is not an ox, but Zhmenya. Holy, holy, holy! I made the sign of the cross, and he looked at me and muttered, his eyesores bulging. I was scared, passion! Let's go next to him, I'm afraid to say a word to him - thunder rumbles, the sky is striped with lightning, the willows bend to the very water - suddenly, brothers, God punish me, so that I die without repentance, a hare runs across the path... He runs, stops and says in a human way: “Great, guys!” Let's go, damn it! - the old man shouted at the shaggy dog, who again walked around the horse. - May you die!

“It happens,” said the rider, still leaning on the saddle and not moving; He said this in a silent, dull voice, the way people immersed in thought speak.

“It happens,” he repeated thoughtfully and with conviction.

Wow, the old man was a bitch! - the old man continued, not so ardently. About five years after his release, they flogged him in the office, so he, in order to prove his malice, went ahead and unleashed a throat disease on all of Kovyli. Countless people then died out, apparently and invisibly, like cholera...

Chekhov Anton Pavlovich

A.P. CHEKHOV

Near the wide steppe road, called the big road, a flock of sheep spent the night. Two shepherds guarded her. One, an old man of about eighty, toothless, with a trembling face, was lying on his stomach near the road, his elbows resting on the dusty leaves of the plantain; the other, a young guy with thick black eyebrows and no mustache, dressed in a line from which cheap bags are sewn, lay on his back, with his hands under his head, and looked up at the sky, where the Milky Way stretched just above his face and the stars were dozing.

The shepherds were not alone. A fathom away from them, in the darkness that covered the road, a saddled horse was dark, and next to it, leaning on the saddle, stood a man in big boots and a short cloak, by all appearances the master's rider. Judging by his figure, straight and motionless, by his manners, by his treatment of the shepherds and the horse, he was a serious, sensible man who knew his worth; even in the darkness, traces of military bearing and that majestic and condescending expression that is acquired from frequent dealings with masters and managers were noticeable in him.

The sheep were sleeping. Against the gray background of the dawn, which was already beginning to cover the eastern part of the sky, silhouettes of unsleeping sheep were visible here and there; they stood and, with their heads down, were thinking about something. Their thoughts, long, drawn-out, caused by ideas only about the wide steppe and the sky, about days and nights, probably amazed and oppressed them themselves to the point of insensibility, and they, now standing rooted to the spot, did not notice either the presence of a stranger or the anxiety of the dogs.

In the sleepy, frozen air there was a monotonous noise, without which a steppe summer night cannot exist; Grasshoppers chattered continuously, quails sang, and a mile away from the flock, in a ravine in which a stream flowed and willows grew, young nightingales lazily whistled.

The Rider stopped to ask the shepherds for a light for his pipe. He silently lit a cigarette and smoked the entire pipe, then, without saying a word, he leaned on the saddle and thought. The young shepherd did not pay any attention to him; he continued to lie and look at the sky, while the old man looked at the driver for a long time and asked:

No Pantelei from the Makarov economy?

“I’m the one,” answered the crawler.

That's what I see. I didn’t know - to be rich. Where is God coming from?

From the Kovylevsky section.

Farther away. Are you giving away a plot of land for hoarding?

Miscellaneous. And for savings, and for rent, and for bakchi. I actually went to the mill.

A large old shepherd dog, dirty white in color, shaggy, with tufts of fur around the eyes and nose, trying to seem indifferent to the presence of strangers, calmly walked around the horse three times and suddenly, with an angry, senile wheeze, rushed from behind at the handler, the other dogs could not stand it and jumped up from their seats.

Tsits, damn it! - the old man shouted, rising on his elbow. - Oh, may you burst, demonic creature!

When the dogs calmed down, the old man resumed his previous position and said in a calm voice:

And in Kovyli, on the very day of the Ascension, Efim Zhmenya died. Never mind that it would be a sin to guess such people, he was a filthy old man. I suppose I heard it.

No, I haven't heard.

Efim Zhmenya, uncle of the blacksmith Styopka. The whole neighborhood knows him. Oh, and a damned old man! I’ve known him for about sixty years, since the time when Tsar Alexander, who was persecuting the French, was transported from Taganrog on carts to Moscow. We went together to meet the deceased Tsar, and then the big road did not go to Bakhmut, but from Esaulovka to Gorodishche, and where Kovyli is now, there were dudach’s nests - every step, there was a dudach’s nest. Then I also noticed that Zhenya had ruined his soul and the evil spirits in him. I notice there: if a man of peasant rank is more and more silent, is engaged in the affairs of old women and strives to live alone, then there is little good here, but Efimka used to be silent and silent from a young age, but he looks at you askance, he always seems to be sulking and puffing up like a beer before the trigger. For him to go to church, or to go out on the street with the guys, or to a tavern - he didn’t have such a fashion, but more and more he sits alone or whispers with old women. He was young, and he was hired as a beekeeper and as a barnkeeper. It used to be that good people would come to him for bakchi, and his watermelons and melons would whistle. Once I also caught a pike in front of people, and it went ho-ho-ho! burst out laughing...

It happens,” Panteley said.

The young shepherd turned on his side and looked intently at the old man, raising his black eyebrows.

Have you heard how watermelons whistle? - he asked.

“I haven’t heard of it, God had mercy,” the old man sighed, “but people said it.” Little tricky... If the evil spirit wants it, it will start whistling in the stone. Before freedom, the skeleton hummed for three days and three nights. I heard it myself. And the pike laughed, so instead of the pike I shook the demon.

The old man remembered something. He quickly rose to his knees and, shaking as if from the cold, nervously thrusting his hands into his sleeves, babbled through his nose in a woman’s patter:

Save us, Lord, and have mercy! I once walked along the bank to Novopavlovka. A thunderstorm was gathering, and there was such a storm that the Queen of Heaven, Mother, forbid... I hasten as fast as I can, I look, and along the path, between the thorn bushes - the thorn was in bloom then - a white ox is walking. I’m thinking: whose ox is this? Why did the difficult one bring him here? He walks, wags his tail and moo-oo! Only, this is it, brothers, I’m catching up with him, I’m coming close, lo and behold! - and this is not an ox, but Zhmenya. Holy, holy, holy! I made the sign of the cross, and he looked at me and muttered, his eyesores bulging. I was scared, passion! Let's go next to him, I'm afraid to say a word to him - thunder rumbles, the sky is striped with lightning, the willows bend to the very water - suddenly, brothers, God punish me, so that I die without repentance, a hare runs across the path... He runs, stops and says in a human way: “Great, guys!” Let's go, damn it! - the old man shouted at the shaggy dog, who again walked around the horse. - May you die!

“It happens,” said the rider, still leaning on the saddle and not moving; He said this in a silent, dull voice, the way people immersed in thought speak.

“It happens,” he repeated thoughtfully and with conviction.

Wow, the old man was a bitch! - the old man continued, not so ardently. About five years after his release, they flogged him in the office, so he, in order to prove his malice, went ahead and unleashed a throat disease on all of Kovyli. Countless people then died out, apparently and invisibly, like cholera...

How did he get sick? - asked the young shepherd after some silence.

It is known how. You don't need a lot of intelligence here, if you're willing. I killed people with viper fat. And this is such a remedy that not only from fat, but even from the spirit, people are dying.

“That’s true,” Panteley agreed.

The guys wanted to kill him then, but the old men wouldn’t let him. It was impossible to kill him; he knew the place where the treasures were. And besides him, not a single soul knew. The treasures here are enchanted, so you will find them and not see them, but he saw them. It happened that he was walking along a bank or in a forest, and under the bushes and rocks there were lights, lights, lights... The lights were as if from sulfur. I saw it myself. Everyone was waiting for Zhmenya to show people the place or dig it himself, but he - it is said that the dog itself does not eat and does not give it to others - and so he died: he neither dug it himself nor showed it to people.

The Observer lit his pipe and for a moment illuminated his large mustache and his sharp, stern, respectable-looking nose. Small circles of light jumped from his hands to his cap, ran across the saddle along the horse's back and disappeared into the mane near the ears.

There are a lot of treasures in these places,” he said.

There must be treasures.

Needless to say, the old man sighed. - By all appearances, there is, but, brother, there is no one to dig them. Nobody knows the real places, and nowadays, almost all the treasures are a mystery. To find and see him, you need to have a talisman, and without a talisman, nothing can be done. Zhmenya had talismans, but what can you beg from him, the bald devil? He kept them so that no one would get them.

The young shepherd crawled two steps towards the old man and, resting his head on his fists, fixed his motionless gaze on him. An infantile expression of fear and curiosity shone in his dark eyes and, as it seemed in the twilight, stretched and flattened the large features of his young, rough face. He listened intently.

And the scriptures say that there are many treasures here,” the old man continued. This is what to say... and there is nothing to say. One old Novopavlovsk soldier in Ivanovka was shown a label, and in that label it was printed about the place, and even how many pounds of gold, and in what container; They would have gotten the treasure using this label a long time ago, but the treasure is enchanted and you won’t be able to approach it.

Why, grandfather, don’t you come up to me? - asked the young man.

There must be a reason, the soldier did not say. Spellbound... You need a talisman.

Ostasha found that guy in Rassolnaya and came asking questions. The man told. The raftsman Kolyvan Bugrin was found in the cave of the Bayun fighter. This fighter is located eight miles below Guselny. At the foot of the fighter there is a cave where you can swim by boat. Bayun is also called Plakun, because while having fun, guys bring girls into the cave, set them off and swim away. The girls, fools, sit in the cave and cry, because they understand: until they lift their hems in front of the guys and bend over, they will not be taken out of here. In spring, the cave floods almost to the ceiling. This is where Chusovaya threw Kolyvan’s body. Kolyvan, when he was swimming from near Guselny, caught some kind of board and put it under him so as not to drown. He didn't drown - he died from the cold.

Was there a cross on the rafter? - Ostasha asked the narrator.

Tea, everyone is Orthodox, how can they be without a cross? - the man was offended. - There was a cross, of course! I saw it myself when the raftsman was nailed into a coffin.

After that, Ostasha took his belongings from his uncle, the Fedotov girls, loaded himself into the boat and headed upward.

Life seemed to flicker in his eyes - dark, empty pieces fell into nothingness, as if they had never existed at all. History burned out like a morning fire, and the fire was knocked out of the coals by the last flashes.

On the evening of the next day, Ostasha reached the Four Brothers. He sat down on a stump near the grave with a collapsed cabbage and said wearily:

Hello, father... So I found you.

He didn't sit for long. He stood up, raked up the blurry soil of the mound with his palms, straightened the cross and propped it up with a peg. He had neither an ax nor a spade to clean up the grave. And it was still early - the ground had not thawed to the depths. He will come back here in the summer and do everything right. And then he will swim to Guselny and fill it up and level the hole with the treasure.

Robber.

Did anyone bury Boite?..

Ostasha landed near Klikun, got out of the shitik and climbed up the slope.

It didn’t take long to search the forest under the rock. Ostasha saw light clothes from afar. He made his way through the dead wood, and his legs gave way.

It was lying around on small fir trees... lying around... No, not Boite. Doll. A bag filled with straw and dressed in Vogul yaga. Instead of a head, there was another bag, a smaller one, to which straw patties were screwed on top to resemble the blond hair of a Vogulka.

Ostasha spent the whole night on Klikun. Thought. A scarlet dawn rose over the mountains. And Ostasha realized that just as the slandered father was still honest to him, so the living Vogulka was still dead to him. There is nothing else to change in life. He asked the Lord to protect and save Boite, and promised anything for this - he promised to abandon her forever. Well, here we go. The Lord is good. The Lord fulfilled. Now he too must serve his due. Otherwise it's not fair.

Ostasha went down to the shore, climbed into the shitik and began to push further towards Kumysh.

A shepherd led a herd of cows along a coastal street, collecting the cattle from farmsteads. Ostasha caught up with the boy and asked:

Listen, good fellow, is Kolyvan Bugrin at home?

“He’s a raftsman,” the boy answered. - He's still afloat.

And his son, Pyotr Kolyvanovich? The boy looked gloomily at Ostasha:

Petro went to live with his named brother, in Kashka.

And his daughter, Nezhdana Kolyvanovna?

She was lost. She ran away. Nobody knows where she is.

Well, God help you,” Ostasha said hoarsely.

The shepherd boy turned away and angrily cracked his whip. Following the herd, Ostasha reached the house of Nikeshka Dolmatov.

Baba Grunya led her cow out of the gate, baptized her and menacingly shouted to the shepherdess:

You, Evstigney, give up this habit of sleeping behind the bushes! Do I know you! I'll beat you to death! Better keep your eyes open, and I’ll treat you to some cottage cheese in the evening!

Yes, I need your cottage cheese... - the shepherd boy muttered.

The cows slowly swam past, shaking their horned heads, and Baba Grunya saw Ostasha on the other side of the street.

Ostasha did not come up, stood and looked at Baba Grunya.

The old woman quietly sat down on a bench near her gate and covered her mouth with the corner of her handkerchief. Ostasha came up.

Nikesha?.. - Baba Grunya silently asked, looking up at Ostasha with dry, huge eyes.

The barge was killed under the Guselny fighter,” Ostasha said hoarsely.

Baba Grunya didn’t ask anything else, she just looked.

Ostasha began to knead his throat and shook his head.

I... I’ll come in the summer, I’ll tell you everything... - he wheezed and walked away.

...He sailed further along Chusovaya, and spring floated towards him. The ground was covered with green fluff, green smoke swirled in the urems. Birds chirped, chatting to each other across the river. The water receded, exposing the soles of the fighters. Cabbage rolls fell on the fresh, newly sunken graves of barge haulers, as if spring did not want to hear about death. The water of the rains became light, and the morning dew warmed.

In the clearing behind the fighter Stolba, the stonemasons’ camp was still smoking. Nikita Demidov has not yet been given a cross. Now the stonemasons, standing on ladders, were leveling the rock opposite the clearing and knocking out the letters of the inscription on the rock. Ostasha sailed past.

Ostasha didn’t want to, didn’t want to go into Yokva, but some Vogul was standing on the splash and fishing, and Ostasha was pushed closer.

Is the girl, Shakula’s granddaughter, alive?.. - he asked.

Vogul glanced sideways at Ostasha.

“Alive,” he answered briefly.

Ostasha could not utter another word, he just absurdly pointed his palm towards the shore and nodded.

“She’s not there,” said the Vogul. - She went to live on Konda. Forever.

Ostasha could barely control himself.

Tell me... tell me,” he asked. - I'll give you money...

Vogul paused, looking at Ostasha.

What to tell? - he asked sadly. - I remember you. You lived last year. You loved Boite, yes... In the spring, two people sailed on a boat. They wanted to take Boite. Boite shot one. The other one screamed and ran away. Then he returned - Boite was gone. He took the dead man, took the gun, and swam away. Boite appeared at night. She said she was afraid that the soldiers would come for her. She got ready and left. Many Voguls live on Konda. Our land is still there.

Ostasha gave the Vogul a ruble. He got scared and didn’t want to take it for a long time.

Now only Kashka was ahead.

Ostasha moored at the bulkhead, opposite the ashes of the Zyryankins' house. He pulled the shitik ashore and walked through the smoke to his house.

The house looked lived-in and cheerful. The windows were open. Smoke was billowing from the chimney. Petrunka turned out to be a masterful man.

Crossing the threshold of the gate, Ostasha saw Petrunka on the porch, but before he had time to call out, Petrunka rushed into the house. Surprised, Ostasha climbed the stairs, walked through the hallway, and opened the door to the upper room.

Petrunka was hiding behind the stove. Nezhdana was sitting on a bench by the window in a simple and poor house dress, breastfeeding the baby. She turned her face to Ostasha - surprisingly thinner, softer - and watched Ostasha with frightened, guilty eyes.

Ostasha stood at the door, then took off his hat, crossed himself at the copper image, and wiped his feet on a rag at the entrance.

This is your son,” Nejdana said quietly to Ostash.

Ostasha walked towards her along the floorboards, as if along the rocking deck of a barge. He squatted down, looking at the baby's face.

“I didn’t inform him,” Nezhdana said guiltily. - But he was born strong, he will survive...

Ostasha put his palms on Nezhdana’s knees and thoughtfully answered:

This means he will be a raftsman.

Nejdana carefully released one hand and timidly, gratefully stroked Ostasha’s head.

And when a teacher of your kind comes, what name do you order to baptize, father? - she asked.

Ostasha didn’t think twice about it.

“Peter,” he said quietly and stubbornly.

Closing the shelf, the curtain rinsed in the warm breeze. The solar stripes lay on the floor, on the log wall. The splashing sound of bustling was heard. The stern fighter Dozhdeva looked through the window at Ostasha, and Ostasha looked at Nezhdana, who was breastfeeding the baby. And in the memory of the Ostashs, like barges, the chased and fiery words floated: “And I say to you: you are Peter, and on this stone I will build my Church, and the gates of hell will not prevail against it.”

How will I look today, how will I breathe?
The air is cool before a thunderstorm, cool and sticky.
What will I sing today, what will I hear?
Prophetic birds sing - yes, everything is from fairy tales.
V. Vysotsky
AND Bye more alive
rose red V bottle,
let me shout out the words
that have been in the piggy bank for a long time...
B. Okudzhava

The next question that is interesting to consider is Russian Golden Fathoms, notes and colors of visible radiation.
Is it possible, in the light of a combined analysis of the Golden Fathoms, their inherent sound and their visible color radiation, to formulate certain criteria for determining both harmonious combinations of color and sound, and destructive ones?

Quote from a publicly available source: "Visible radiation - electromagnetic waves perceived by the human eye. The sensitivity of the human eye to electromagnetic radiation depends on the wavelength (frequency) of the radiation, with the maximum sensitivity occurring at 555 nm (540 terahertz) in the green part of the spectrum. Since sensitivity gradually decreases to zero as one moves away from the maximum point, it is impossible to indicate the exact boundaries of the spectral range of visible radiation. Usually, the area of ​​380-400 nm (750-790 Hz) is taken as the short-wave boundary, and the long-wave boundary- 760-780 nm (385-395 THz).Electromagnetic radiation with these wavelengths is also called visible light , or simplylight (in the narrow sense of the word)."

Let's determine the color of visible radiation for all 36 Russian Golden Fathoms.

Calculation of the radiation frequency for a specific fathom is done using the formula:

f = C x 2 22 / ( L x 1 000 000 000 000) , Where

F- fathom frequency converted to the visible light range, in THz (terahertz),
- WITH= 299,792,458 m/sec - speed of light,
- L- fathom size in m,
- 1/1 000 000 000 000 - conversion of Hz to THz,
- 2 22 - coefficient of conversion of fathom frequency to the frequency range of visible light.

The calculation results will be shown in Table No. 1.
For fathoms of the Svetoch spiral, we indicate their radiation frequency in the visible spectrum in THz. For all fathoms we will show the corresponding color of radiation for each.

Table No. 1

For the fathoms of the Svetoch spiral, the range of visible perception of light radiation begins with the Egyptian fathom of 166.12 cm and ends at the fathom of 313.59 cm. Twelve fathoms, starting with the Egyptian fathom, are twelve different colors of visible radiation - from violet to burgundy.

Let's check it out.

The next fathom to the left of the Egyptian one is 1.5679 m.
ForL= 1.5679 mf= 801.978 THz - this is also the ultraviolet range.

The next fathom on the right after the fathom 313.59 cm is 3.3224 m.
ForL= 3.3224 mf= 378.468 THz - this is already the infrared range.

These boundaries are very arbitrary: there are subjects whose range of perception of light radiation is much wider - those who are able to see not one, but several “octaves” of light radiation, just as there are singers whose voice easily covers 3-4 octaves, and there are those , who has difficulty voicing a much narrower range. Our smaller brothers also have a different range of perception of light radiation.

Let us dwell on the analysis of the relative position of the consonant elements of various spirals.

On the RA spiral we see a light-sound series similar to the Svetoch spiral. Relative to the elements of the Svetoch spiral, it is shifted 4 steps forward. Thus, the elements of the RA spiral, consonant in their vibrations with the corresponding elements of the Svetoch spiral, have spatio-temporal characteristics that are ahead of the elements of the Svetoch spiral by four steps - by four elements.
Accordingly, a similar light and sound series is also present on the Mouth spiral. It lags behind the corresponding elements of the Svetoch spiral by 3 steps. The elements of the Mouth spiral, consonant in their vibrations with the corresponding elements of the Svetoch spiral, have spatio-temporal characteristics that lag behind the elements of the Svetoch spiral by three steps - three elements. They lag behind the corresponding elements of the RA spiral by seven steps, that is, by seven elements.

So, Mi or Violet-blue radiation of the Ra spiral - 172.64 cm , Mi or Violet-blue radiation of the spiral Svetoch - Narodnaya fathom 176.00 cm , Mi or Violet-blue radiation of the spiral Mouth - 169.35 cm - it's energetic DIFFERENT quantities.

How is their consonance born? Through the fathom of the spiral RA.
Let's look at a specific example.

The Mi of the Svetoch spiral differs from the Mi of the Mouth spiral by 3.93% (176.00 / 169.35 = 1.0393, deviation - 3.93%), that is, they would not be consonant with each other if there were no third one, the uniting quantity is the Mi spiral RA.
The ratio of the Mi spiral RA to the Mi spiral Svetoch is 172.64 / 176.00 = 0.981, deviation 1.91%.
The ratio of the Mi spiral RA to the Mi spiral Ustye is 172.64 / 169.35 = 1.0194, deviation 1.94%.
Thus, a triune consonance of notes located on different spirals arises, and the sound ANY made of spiral strings makes you respond the other two .

The three spirals RA, Light and Mouth are three different levels of energy compaction, three transitions from a thinner, energy-saturated state to a denser and less energy-intensive state.

The RA spiral is the level of Cosmic energies, the level of interaction with the Unified sentient matter of the Cosmos. Spiral Light - the level of psycho-emotional interaction and perception of the subject, characterized by its inherent quality of thought formation, as well as interaction with the energy-information volume of the Earth. Spiral Mouth - the level of formal interactions, development and transformation of the dense material form of the subject.

Everything is one, and the impact on any energy level manifests itself on all others. At whatever level - upper, middle or lower - the initial impulse arises, it affects the entire system as a whole.

Now let’s single out from the many Russian Golden fathoms those fathoms that have come down to us with names, which immediately leads us to assume that they were used constantly. An unnecessary, waste condition is not given a name!
We will separate these fathoms into a separate table - table No. 2.

Explanation: Sazhen 284.82 cm is twice the small one 142.41 cm, it has its own name - gorodovaya.
The fathom 268.82 cm - double the smaller 134.41 cm and the fathom 301.74 cm - double the simple 150.87 cm are similarly manifested. They can be called that.

We leave the fathom 169.35 cm, since it has practically already gone through the process of legitimization, however, under different names - Rostova, Chernyaev, new (a funny name for a fathom, the age of which is difficult to even imagine! How old is the instrument with which this world was created ? He is older than what was done to them).

Considering and analyzing the resulting sample, we see that all 12 notes and all 12 colors of visible light radiation are fully present in it.
Some even twice - F and violet radiation, Mi and violet-blue radiation, C-Sharp and green radiation.

Conclusion: The 15 fathoms, which we know by name, are a necessary and sufficient set for the execution of any plan, because by using any of the fathoms, the Master actually works with three - the one he chose and two that are in resonating consonance with the chosen one.
Accordingly, the signal from the influence arrives at all three levels of the system and produces objectification and development of its state. What is a system? One of the systems that interests us is Man, both the Owner and any family member, as well as a “random” passer-by, and each of them feels the beneficial influence of the proportionate energy of the volume created by the Master.

What about the different color combinations?
Each of the twelve Triforces RA-Lamp-Mouth has not only its own major chord, but also its own triad of color radiation. These triads are certainly harmonious, balanced color combinations, and when used in design developments and in everyday life, a powerful harmonizing effect will be obtained. The light-sound influence of his own Trinity RA-Lamp-Mouth will be especially beneficial for each person.

Each body and volume has its own light and sound manifestation. All Living, gold-wurf bodies and volumes have light and sound characteristics that are harmonious and balanced, that is, Triunes. Dead bodies and volumes have dissonant light and sound characteristics, and accordingly, dead bodies and volumes also in the light and sound range have a destructive effect on others, that is, they work to take energy from living beings, bodies and volumes.