Leaving Russia seems such a long time ago now. Aside from my family, I dont really get the opportunity to speak to my fellow countryfolk. As I get older and my Russian rusty, I yearn for the things that remind me of “home” – the homely borscht, the delicious salad oliviye, the fluffy sugary layers of our “napoleon” cake and the decadence of blini with caviar. I miss the long train journeys where you would look for day after day at the never ending forests of beryozki – the quintessential Russian tree, the humble silverbirch, as we would travel far and wide and visit exotic places; I miss the pints of kvas , the non alcoholic beer-like drink that my parents would buy at the local markets; I miss the warmth of the Caspian Sea, the heat of the blistering sun, the stickiness of ripe figs growing on our trees, the fields of white cotton, the acres of pregnant apricot and mulberry trees lining my grandparents orchards in late summer. 

This post is for my lovely Muscovites O+S, who gave me the pleasure of an afternoon together talking, laughing, photographing and reminiscing of Mother Russia. Spasiba! xxx

 

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4 Responses to “… a russian love story …”

  1. Dasha says:

    This post made me smile. Big time)) and feel nostalgic about home)) xxx

  2. Lovely story and loved-up photographs !!!

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