Echo - Dmitri Timoshenko - Played by D. Timoshenko

“ECHO“ 4 days and more than 1000 kilometers of asphalt and dirt roads while driving an SUV - in the summer of 2023 I traveled around Estonia. Driving these hundreds of kilometers, I admired nature and “read” the history of my native country: wooden houses, ritual stones, churches; manors (some of which were abandoned); bunkers from WW1 and WW2, filled with water; cities made of concrete and glass. There are many contrasts in Estonia. A small country with a rich and intricate history. All this, as well as my new guitar “Maton EBG808” (here’s a separate video about purchasing it: - inspired me to write “Echo”. I drew up the route with my Estonian friends and roughly imagined where I would go and what would see, but when I found myself in those places - Forests, canyons, lighthouses and caves, - filled with smells and sounds, I became enchanted by nature, its harmony, and a feeling of kinship with all that exists in this world came. Many beautiful places were discovered, dozens of small cozy and carefully maintained settlements; stepping over the roots of centuries-old trees and sometimes bending down to pick sweet blueberries or raspberries, I inhaled the smell of a dense thicket inhabited by various living creatures. I talked with residents of small towns, farmers and handicraftsmen. Slowly wandering clouds, a gusty wind, a downpour, the sun that replaces it, living somewhere behind the forest, emerging in the morning and settling down behind it for the night, a road going into the sunset, the muffled hum of tires, a flickering landscape, lush nests of cranes on poles , villages with plows and tractors, and again - forests, fields, farms. One day, while driving a car towards my next goal along a dirt road laid among a dense forest, I realized that I was lost and driving in circles. The navigator clearly showed the map incorrectly. I stopped the car, lowered the window and listened: only the rustling of the wind in the trees. And then I started to pick up on something else. A distant monotonous knock? Woodcutter? Drum? And it’s as if women’s voices are singing along. Dusk was approaching and the shadows around became thicker. There was some movement in the forest. Maybe a beast? The trees seemed to come closer, intending to swallow the lost traveler and erase the road, taking back what belongs to it and restoring the disturbed balance. Two dragonflies rushed past, twirling in a dance. The voice from GPS insistently reminded me that I need to continue driving further along this enchanted ring. After thinking for a couple of minutes where I would need to turn, I turned off the GPS, pressed the pedal to the floor and, raising a cloud of dust, rushed to another turn. Only then was it finally possible to escape from the captivity of this treacherous carousel. The next day I found myself at the top of one of Hiiumaa’s stunning lighthouses, where the wind was so strong that the first breath took my breath away. A powerful wind ruffled the shirt and drove away the indignant seagulls like specks of dust. This was the last point on my trip. I stood and looked over the dark blue sea and at the spit made of stones and which crashed into it, and behind me stretches a forest, with a couple of points above it - eagles, looked at this place of intersection of two worlds - land and sea. Then I walked down, to the beach, where was a clapboard house with a couple of surfboards nailed to the wall—a café with a nautical theme. Parents sunbathe, children splash in cool water. Having ordered coffee and a hamburger, I sat down at a wooden cable reel converted into a table on the terrace and watched the horizon: in the distance, merging with the sea, gray-blue clouds peacefully stretched out. They created a strange illusion and looked like mountains. This is how I remember this short but hot summer with the aromas of thousands of herbs, flowers and plants, the singing of birds, among which the blackbird stands out with its flood trills - something that is rarely enjoyed in the capital. “Echo” is my humble attempt to describe what I saw and the feelings it made on me. When composing, I was guided by the peculiarities of Estonian folk music and gave the sound some archaism. I hope you like it. Also, I would like to thank for the support my family and friends, Estonian colleagues, friends and acquaintances. Special thanks to my friend Artyom, who made the video.