Summer. City center. Clouds are gathering. In this charged moment something incomprehensible and beautiful gazes at me. People take shelter in the metro’s underground or, like moths, hurry toward the mall’s bright shop windows. No one notices the solemnity and purity of this unseen power.
The cups are neatly arranged.
Everything must be perfect.
He’s a little nervous.
But he sits up straight, just like he was taught.
She will come. Definitely.
It rained during the day, but now it has warmed up, and the night city is wrapped in thick fog. I was just walking around the center, and now I’m back in my neighborhood. The cars are covered in tiny droplets of dew. The fog highlights the glow of the weary streetlights. A very cozy moment.
A minute ago you were talking, laughing.
The elevator doors closed, and suddenly it went quiet.
A walk through the night city. A sudden downpour — and we take shelter under the awning of a summer diner. On one side — the heat of the kitchen and an appetizing aroma, on the other — the coolness of the downpour that has poured over the city. Cozy amid the storm.
A May evening in the city center.
The sky is densely overcast with a thick veil of clouds. The intensifying rain just made me lazily reach into my backpack for an umbrella, then pull it from its case and open the large black dome above me.
Headlights reflect in the wet asphalt. It’s a beautiful and mysterious moment — on the edge of day and night, on the edge of water and the fire of the nighttime city.
Came across a falling lilac bush in the city center. I’m always amazed by how adaptable plants are. Trees growing even on rooftops — or this lilac bush, on the verge of collapsing, yet still holding on and delighting us with its spring attire.
Recently, during an evening walk, I came across a snowman. Not a big, real one, but a small, symbolic one. I like snowless winters, but someone must be feeling sad today and left it here.
Woven from water, doomed to wait for spring in the middle of the nocturnal concrete city. A symbol of hope.
You walked by but didn’t notice it.
Listen to a song by Dolphin from the album “Существо” (2011). It’s about hope. I strongly recommend listening to the whole album.
Recently there was a very strong wind in Minsk. During an evening walk, I noticed a lonely autumn leaf on a tree. Unfortunately, a photograph will not convey its horror and steadfast resistance to the onslaught of the elements. The wind was dying down - you can take a break. But then a new gust is stronger than the previous one - the leaf again tries to hold on with all its might.
I watched the confrontation between nature and nature. People separate themselves from the world around them, oppose themselves to everything. “How she raged!” (nature) - as if there is me, and there is she. But when you look from the side, you see more clearly how everything interacts with itself. Like a dog trying to bite its own tail.
A steadfast autumn leaf! I think it won that night, to proudly fall on the wet November asphalt in the morning. Autumn. Once again, nature throws off its clothes, as it will one day throw us off.
See also The Fall
Recently, I came across a family of swans in a park not far from my home. I had gone out to take photos of nature, but ended up staying near these beautiful creatures for about twenty minutes. People were taking pictures, someone was explaining something about the swans to their child, and I was taking shot after shot, enjoying the moment and feeling a connection with something real and beautiful.
By the way, did you know that swans grunt? Perhaps it’s because they feel threatened (“I’m in charge here!”), or maybe they’re asking for food and attention from passersby, or even showing gratitude. Let me know in the comments if you have any ideas.
