Inspired by my travels, this mini-series will use the written word in lieu of visuals to capture what once was.
Russia: a heart breaking beauty.
The dirty, crumbling landscape, cracked walls with fissures like veins, the beaten ground scattered with trash like leaves.
Among the chaos, treasured moments: nothing but a glimpse, a jewel, like a dragonfly caught in amber:
A wedding, the bride with white billowed skirts and kin spread out on the lush green grass.
Old babushka’s leaning on canes outside their gilded church, kerchiefs of yellow, red and green containing the faces of those having withstood innumerable winters.
Castles, guilded in gold and finery, holding ghosts of lives past, of what once was, turrets and arches suffering through the bitter cold.
Siberian Summer, bright with sunshine, the hint of a cool breeze promising the arctic bleakness ahead, with swirls of snow and blankets of ice .
Russia: the strong, the enduring, the resiliant.