While the forest lights are on

In deep ravines, where the spring sun looks in only for a moment, an amazing plant similar to a lily of the valley grows — Forest lanterns. Its leaves and stem are unremarkable, but instead of white bells, tiny luminous buds swing on it, as if cast from moon silver and caught sunbeams.
 
The one who plucked such a stalk gets the key to the nocturnal secrets of the forest. Its light illuminates the invisible: paths trodden by moon hares; round dances of forest spirits dancing on thawed areas; and the very awakening of nature — when the earth quietly exhales steam, and the sap rises through the tree veins.
 
In this light, the world appears as a living, breathing being. But with the first crow of the rooster, the magic goes out, and Forest lanterns become ordinary plants, keeping their secrets until the next night.