Journey through the seasons in my small Russian city

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Title : Journey through the seasons in my small Russian city
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Journey through the seasons in my small Russian city

[Guest post by Masha Kirikova in Korolyov, Russia]

Three years passed since we moved to the little city called Korolyov. It was not easy to relax and feel its peaceful ambience at first. I invite you to follow this petite journey through the seasons, meeting our people and observing a life in its simplest form.

Hurrah! Crows are here too, they are not leaving me. I was so afraid there wouldn't be a single crow in our new place... I'm lucky – a pretty big garbage bin area is located right in front of our windows. Where there is waste there is a crow. Two crows live in our backyard, some pigeons too.

People leave things near the garbage bin hoping someone will take them home. Lamps, tables, doors and chairs, often books wait their destiny in the snow. The chair was standing, then lying, then standing again. It was moved from one backyard corner to another, covered with sparkling snow. No luck for this one. Too many days was it waiting.

The winter is snowy as it always is here, in the middle of Russia. I was amazed to see those linden twigs glowing under the sun. Crisp snow, -8C, I could not resist. And froze almost to death after 40 minutes of sketching.

We have a big school building with a stadium under our windows. Day after day I see kids practicing skiing with their teacher. All ages, from 7 to 14, do it on a weekly basis. They study how to glide with and without sticks, how to make the right leg move. My husband, my grandma and I, we all had skiing at school. It's a part of obligatory physical training with marks and norms, competitions and exams.

The first thawed path of this year! We are enjoying the spring air. It's -10C outside, but sunbeams colour poplar trees green. Little birds make funny sounds in the morning. Spring, how welcome you are! Spring nibbles dark patches in our snowdrifts. Spring eats our white as a melting ice-cream, leaving coffee and chocolate spots on its sides. Spring adds emerald green velvet on linden's bark, inspires little birds to sing louder, and dwindles far houses in fog. Daffodils are ready to bloom on our windowsill.

Locals love to feed the birds. Some of them believe those creatures are not actually birds, but dead relatives coming from the sky. It's impolite to leave them hungry! Older people become more active. No one makes pigeon defense on the roofs, no metal pins on the windows nor on balconies. Even monuments stay bird-friendly. Surprisingly our pigeons know their manners leaving bronze Gagarin (the Soviet cosmonaut and first person to journey into outer space) fresh and untouched.

I saw two old ladies from our studio window. They sat intimately close under the blooming maple tree. Warm days invite elderly to have the first sunbath of the year. Twittering babushkas in the same style wool berets inhabit most post-Soviet cities. I already have two similar berets, keeping them from moths and waiting for my retirement.

Spring Gagarin Street. Sunny weather, sunny mood. Our street glows with love and toddler's laugh.

These two spend weekends under the maple trees. They endlessly cure a car they own, making repairs and adding new features to its exterior. It already has dark window glass, shining silver paint and some tiny accessories, but it's not enough. Father teaches his son how to work with an engine and watches his every move with teacher's attention. Those two love mechanical work so much. Father drinks his beer, standing as a guru while the son changes spark plugs. Peaceful summer Sunday it is.

We here are in the middle of 20th century and I enjoy it a lot. Dandelions cover the town as well as drying duvet covers. The rope between a linden and maple tree adds a village feel to our common backyard. The lady from the first floor brought her wet linen to dry....Right before the storm!

Our town is floating. No one can escape the pleasure of swimming. We sink into dark varnished puddles covered with yellow birch pollen. Fellow citizen is bravely jumping into the deep.

The hole is a must for each and every fence. No matter how thick is the metal, no matter how strong is the construction. Someone will choose to change the design liberating a fellow pedestrian.

The coziest part of our little city: pink bricks with white decorative elements on facades, high trees and only a few cars. Also at the city center are a music school for kids, central park, concert hall and the main square. Always busy (as busy as it could be with only 100,000 inhabitants!). I draw under the music school colonnade when rainy or snowy and enjoy boys and girls twittering after their piano lessons.

It's a snowfall again. Very romantic indeed. Unfortunately it didn't last long. Passersby float under the window. Winter holidays are near! Let's wear a pair of warm mittens and make a snowbaba. A snowbaba is our Russian version of a snowman, but a female one. As big, as soft and as puffy as a real winter lady must be.

Masha Kirikova is a natural history illustrator, artist and tutor living in Korolyov, Russia. You can see more of her work on her website here and on Flickr hereHer previous guest post: Winter hats on a Moscow suburban train 


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