Mongolia and four seasons
The nature of Mongolia, a land without time, a place of everlasting peace, is calling you. You will have read that its climate is "extreme". There is no way of denying this. You can find vast steppes like nowhere on earth, ninhabited deserts with sugar -like sand, taiga forests like in Siberia, high peaks like in the Himalayas, and mountain ranges like in Switzerland. This nature is formed by the "extremes" of hot and cold, cool and warm. You will see that God combined those different landscapes from all over the world only in Mongolia.
The Mongolian Summer is short. But in this short time nature hastens to show you all its splendours. The Mongolian steppe's grasses and plants, blossoms and leaves, seeds and fruits will intoxicate you with their incomparable natural smells and tastes, and whisper to you to come back soon. In the clear Mongolian nights, you only have to stretch out your arms to caress the stars. The sun shines, then clouds cover it up, thunder rolls, rain falls. Then it clears.
Autumn is very long. It seems as if winter would never come. To bring out its beauty once again and more clearly, Mongolia's nature changes the color of the sun. Mongolians call the sun of autumn "the yellow sun". Under this sun we party, we sing, and we get sentimental. The great peace and freedom of Mongolia can be felt then. Birds returning, flying in strings. ｌeaves falling, rustling in the wind. It is as if the Mongolian people and the Mongolian autumn were in harmony with each other.
In winter, days become short. And Mongolia's winter passes swiftly like its days. There is frost and there is snow, but winter is also something new and fresh in Mongolia. You will find its cold hard to bear. But only the frost really brings out the vigour of the Mongolian people. And the colors of winter's nature come out under the winter moon.
Spring is different here than anywhere else. After three months of cold testing the endurance of man and nature, life is coming back. Man and nature cheer up. New born Iambs and kids bleat. Lonely crocuses, hailing in spring, bloom and wither. There is a haze in the evening. The first rain falls.