Tucked into every perfect day, there's a lesson, like a tiny cream-colored envelope with a hidden message inside. You may not discover it until days later when you absent-mindedly stick your hand in your pocket and feel its pointed corners, pull it out and wonder, "Where did this come from?
I had a perfect, or as near-perfect day as I could imagine, last Saturday. Try as I might to find one piece of it that I would change, I'm at a loss. Pictures of the perfect pieces fill my camera. The lesson is still being processed.
Drew and I took a weekend trip to Plyos, Russia with our friends, Ann, John, Zhenya and Matvey. Rumor has it that travel time between Moscow and Plyos is a mere 5 hours by car. We decided that an over-zealous worker at the Plyos "tourist commission," started the 5-hour fabrication in order to lure travelers to come and spend money. Friday afternoon traffic out of Moscow, which accompanied us miles past the city, added another 4 hours, making our arrival time in Plyos at 1:30 am. No, this was not the perfect day. It started the next morning with homemade blinis filled with blueberry jam and sour cream.
Maya, our hostess at "The Volga" hotel, sent us off with a cheery, "Have a lovely walk," after filling us with plenty of coffee and tea to keep us warm.
Zhenya and Matvey, who own property in Plyos, guided us up a hill past homes with gingerbread-house window frames.
Turning around as we reached the top, the view was beyond the words, "picturesque, breathtaking, beautiful, wow" we used to describe it. Silence among beauty is sometimes the only worthy response. I snapped a picture of the Volga River, framed by the autumn hillside dotted with rooftops, and took a deep breath.
Trees, proud of their new fall frocks,
posed for pictures.
Churches pointed their candle-wick domes skyward.
Flowers, unaware of the change in season, continued to bloom. . .
, joyfully.
Watering holes waited for (real) feathered friends to sip and chat.
Returning to afternoon cups of ginger-lemon-honey tea and sweets, followed later by plates of pelmeni, we ended the day with warming sips of Plyos' Cranberry Tincture and more tea in front of a crackling fire.
Quite the perfect day with. . .
But what of the lesson? What did I find in my pocket? Lessons need time, time to steep like my cup of chamomile, before they can be fully understood and appreciated. I will write about it in a day or so. Check back. Now. . . for that tea and a walk in the woods.
I had a perfect, or as near-perfect day as I could imagine, last Saturday. Try as I might to find one piece of it that I would change, I'm at a loss. Pictures of the perfect pieces fill my camera. The lesson is still being processed.
Drew and I took a weekend trip to Plyos, Russia with our friends, Ann, John, Zhenya and Matvey. Rumor has it that travel time between Moscow and Plyos is a mere 5 hours by car. We decided that an over-zealous worker at the Plyos "tourist commission," started the 5-hour fabrication in order to lure travelers to come and spend money. Friday afternoon traffic out of Moscow, which accompanied us miles past the city, added another 4 hours, making our arrival time in Plyos at 1:30 am. No, this was not the perfect day. It started the next morning with homemade blinis filled with blueberry jam and sour cream.
Maya, our hostess at "The Volga" hotel, sent us off with a cheery, "Have a lovely walk," after filling us with plenty of coffee and tea to keep us warm.
Turning around as we reached the top, the view was beyond the words, "picturesque, breathtaking, beautiful, wow" we used to describe it. Silence among beauty is sometimes the only worthy response. I snapped a picture of the Volga River, framed by the autumn hillside dotted with rooftops, and took a deep breath.
Trees, proud of their new fall frocks,
posed for pictures. 
Black and white birches brightened the dense woods like prancing zebras.
Churches pointed their candle-wick domes skyward.
Flowers, unaware of the change in season, continued to bloom. . .
, joyfully.
Watering holes waited for (real) feathered friends to sip and chat.
Returning to afternoon cups of ginger-lemon-honey tea and sweets, followed later by plates of pelmeni, we ended the day with warming sips of Plyos' Cranberry Tincture and more tea in front of a crackling fire.
Quite the perfect day with. . .
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| and Drew! |
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| Matvey, Zhenya, Ann, John |
But what of the lesson? What did I find in my pocket? Lessons need time, time to steep like my cup of chamomile, before they can be fully understood and appreciated. I will write about it in a day or so. Check back. Now. . . for that tea and a walk in the woods.
I checked a map and my thought that this was somewhat toward the east of Moscow was correct--north and east. Those gingerbread log houses look very typical of Siberia, and you would fnd more and more of them if you traveled farther east. It looks like your route might have gone through Sergiev Posad. If you have not visited there, I reccommend it.
ReplyDeleteAnd I forgot to mention the birch forest--I have a picture that could parallel yours--taken much farther east in Siberia. It hangs over my desk and gives me afeeling ofpeace whenever I need it.
ReplyDeleteInteresting to hear how you saw such similarities in Siberia. I consider that "serious Russia." :-) Our route did not take us through Sergiev Posad, but I've been there before. The blue domes with gold stars on the cathedral there are amazing!
ReplyDelete