In a house in southern Russia, two sisters, their mother, and their grandmother gather each summer, creating a vibrant, matriarchal world. The father is there too, but he's barely seen. Men in this women's realm are like passing trains. Amidst endless baby cries, lullabies, fortune-telling, and sauna rituals, the film flows quietly and imperceptibly — from birth to death, creating a portrait of a family whose connection transcends the visible world. Daughters unknowingly follow the paths of their mothers, repeating the cycles of those who came before them. Breaking these deeply ingrained generational patterns seems almost unimaginable.

Alina has never been to a summer camp before. On the day of arrival, she cries in the cafeteria, and in the evening, while everyone else is having fun at the disco, she lies alone in her room. But the uncertainty of the first days gradually fades, and soon Alina marches confidently with the others, singing a marching song. Only Polina does not take part. She has also recently arrived at the camp, but keeps apart from the others, living in a world of her own fantasies and interests. The two girls sleep in neighboring beds, yet they notice each other for the first time when they start cutting out paper stars together.

The film’s protagonist is twenty-three years old and an ordinary dreamer. He works as a salesman in a hypermarket and lives in a communal apartment with migrant workers, all the while dreaming of a career as a musician. No one takes his musical ambitions seriously — neither his relatives, nor his best friend, nor his neighbors. Especially them… But the hero has an old Yamaha, which, in his view, will lead him to the dream he longs for.

Lesha is 14 years old, he lives in the village of Kletino, a hundred kilometers from Moscow. He has a mother and a house, friends and an old shepherd Rem, a computer and a bicycle. He has childhood and summer days. He has everything.