photos of sochi
May. 27th, 2013 01:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
moonflower77these give me a particularly strong feeling of nostalgia. i would imagine initran's base town to be much the same.
the bridge over the sochinka which i and grandma used to cross once or twice a day on our walks to the seaside.
the port in the early evening:
the harbor at night:
the shoreline at night:
the bower i and my grandfather visited when we went on a walk through the park:
the dark gray pebbles and sand at sunset:
the sunset photos reminded me of the many sunsets i and grandma watched from the beach. grandma was very concerned over my health and did not allow me to sunbathe during the day, for a good reason, but when the sun was about to set and its light became gentler and weaker, she always had me spend some ten to thirty minutes lying face up; she would ask me to close my eyes, fold a cloth and cover the upper part of my face, so the light did not hurt me. then, when the sun would strike the horizon and turn a pale pink, she would tell me to look at it, as she believed this to be good for one's eyesight. i enjoyed tracing how the pink become deeper and paler and the sun sank until there was just a tiny edge left, and then even that faded and disappeared from view. grandma would bring some cold boiled buckwheat in a bottle, mix it with some milk from a carton, and we would eat this afterward for supper. i thought it was delicious. often, she would tell me about various signs pertaining to the evening sun that were used to predict the weather for the following day, e.g. if the sun is a bright red and/or sets into a thick haze or some clouds, one can expect a storm tomorrow.
the park around the "belye nochi" health spa as i remember it - full of croaking tree-frogs, chirping crickets, glowing lightning bugs and night-time magic:
the mountain ahun at night:
there were squirrels in one of the parks adjacent to a quieter, less-frequented beach where my grandfather would take me once in a while (if i am not mistaken, it is called "rossiya" - "russia"). they were perfectly tame and when we approached one of the pine trees, a lot of them would clamber down to greet us. we used to feed them straight from our hands. i think there were dark gray or black squirrels too, but i could be wrong.
the brass dachshund stands in the rivyera park not far from where we used to live. i was some four or five years old at most, and it looked enormous to me. i remember sitting or lying down on its back and running my hands over the uneven surface. depending on whether the sculpture happened to be in the shade or in direct sunlight, it could be pleasantly cool, very warm or almost too hot to touch (so much it appeared to burn my fingers).
the levee of the river sochinka where my cousin dina used to take me for walks. my grandparents were not keen on her doing this, so we went rarely and my memories are a blur, but they also have that special magical feel about them.
the bridge over the sochinka which i and grandma used to cross once or twice a day on our walks to the seaside.
the port in the early evening:
the harbor at night:
the shoreline at night:
the bower i and my grandfather visited when we went on a walk through the park:
the dark gray pebbles and sand at sunset:
the sunset photos reminded me of the many sunsets i and grandma watched from the beach. grandma was very concerned over my health and did not allow me to sunbathe during the day, for a good reason, but when the sun was about to set and its light became gentler and weaker, she always had me spend some ten to thirty minutes lying face up; she would ask me to close my eyes, fold a cloth and cover the upper part of my face, so the light did not hurt me. then, when the sun would strike the horizon and turn a pale pink, she would tell me to look at it, as she believed this to be good for one's eyesight. i enjoyed tracing how the pink become deeper and paler and the sun sank until there was just a tiny edge left, and then even that faded and disappeared from view. grandma would bring some cold boiled buckwheat in a bottle, mix it with some milk from a carton, and we would eat this afterward for supper. i thought it was delicious. often, she would tell me about various signs pertaining to the evening sun that were used to predict the weather for the following day, e.g. if the sun is a bright red and/or sets into a thick haze or some clouds, one can expect a storm tomorrow.
the park around the "belye nochi" health spa as i remember it - full of croaking tree-frogs, chirping crickets, glowing lightning bugs and night-time magic:
the mountain ahun at night:
there were squirrels in one of the parks adjacent to a quieter, less-frequented beach where my grandfather would take me once in a while (if i am not mistaken, it is called "rossiya" - "russia"). they were perfectly tame and when we approached one of the pine trees, a lot of them would clamber down to greet us. we used to feed them straight from our hands. i think there were dark gray or black squirrels too, but i could be wrong.
the brass dachshund stands in the rivyera park not far from where we used to live. i was some four or five years old at most, and it looked enormous to me. i remember sitting or lying down on its back and running my hands over the uneven surface. depending on whether the sculpture happened to be in the shade or in direct sunlight, it could be pleasantly cool, very warm or almost too hot to touch (so much it appeared to burn my fingers).
the levee of the river sochinka where my cousin dina used to take me for walks. my grandparents were not keen on her doing this, so we went rarely and my memories are a blur, but they also have that special magical feel about them.