K and I were the first swallows from Kazakhstan to fly to the USA. It was my first time on such a long flight, and I was a bit exhausted. Upon arriving in my state, my first impression was the "endless bridge," as K and I called it. A bridge that leads to nowhere. We assumed the builders had some kind of plan for this bridge. But apparently, something went wrong, and the "endless bridge" remained unfinished. To us, it wasn't wrong; it became a place where we could go to watch the ripples of the water and the sun. It was there that I saw a sunset for the first time; it was elegant and mesmerizing. The water, which for a moment begins to reflect white, then pink, purple, and violet. The sun seems to embrace the horizon and go to sleep. And in its place come the moon and stars, which we can see because this is not a large metropolis. I fell in love with our city; it is small and cozy. And I felt a special aura—just as a scent distinguishes a person, an aura distinguishes a city.

What surprised me most was that people smile. We greeted strangers and talked about the weather and the news. At first, it was very strange to me, but then it became the norm. I noticed that Americans are usually very emotional and eccentric to us. However, for them, there is nothing unusual about it; they simply accept everyone as an individual. If she likes blue hair, the main thing is that she likes it herself and feels comfortable. Our city is called Ocean City. It is a small resort town near the Atlantic Ocean. Americans come here to vacation, and the city literally and figuratively thaws and comes alive by summer.