"Do you know that anyone who has ever caught a ruff in their life, or seen migratory thrushes in the autumn, how they fly in flocks over the village on clear, cool days, is no longer a city dweller, and will be drawn to freedom until their death."
Anton Pavlovich Chekhov.
Every time I venture out of the city and drive past rural villages, I enjoy looking at the houses and yards of the local residents. I always have my small camera with me, and I capture all the interesting moments and beautiful views. The vast expanses of the Krasnoyarsk Territory, the vast wheat fields, the winding roads, the high sky, the villages, the local bodies of water. The photos don't always turn out well, because I take them through the car window while driving.
I love the village very much, as I spent my childhood there, surrounded by nature. In the summer, we kids would run to the Vesnovka River or the Pervomayskiye Ponds for a swim, hike to the local waterfall, catch barbel in the swamp, pick snowdrops, tulips, and poppies from the hills, ride bikes along the Kapchagay Highway, and steal apples from the collective farm's orchard, even though everyone had apple trees in their yards.
We played with kittens, puppies, and piglets. We picked mushrooms from the farmstead, then Grandma fried them in sunflower oil, and it seemed like the best food in the world. We also drank water from the local spring under the bridge—clean and cold, it was tastier than any lemonade. And, of course, we helped our parents around the house, weeding the beds, watering the garden, and feeding the animals.
We had a large vegetable garden where we grew all our vegetables. There were apple trees, and our favorites were Limonka, Pestrushka, Medovka, and the famous Alma-Ata Aport. We also had a large pear tree, the Forest Beauty. Dad planted it when I was born, and it's still growing and bearing fruit. This year, the pear tree started to fail; some of the older branches had dried up. My brother Andrei, who lives with my mother and his wife Anya in my parents' house, broke the news to me.
We grew cherries, sweet cherries, apricots with sweet pits, peaches, plums, raspberries, currants, strawberries, gooseberries, and mulberries on our plot. There were also vineyards with Damskie Fingers, Kuldzhinka, and other grape varieties. But my favorites were Muscat White and Kishmish.
Mom grew flowers—roses, dahlias, lilies, chrysanthemums, tulips, irises, daffodils. And now their entire yard is covered in flowers; Anya takes care of the flowers.
And, as in any village yard, we had pets—dogs, cats, piglets, rabbits, Muscovy ducks, chickens. And my dad really loved pigeons. My younger brother is also a pigeon lover; he breeds pedigree birds.
They also have rabbits, chickens, and dogs.
When I got married, we also lived in a private house and we had a garden, a vegetable garden, and pets.
We currently live in an apartment and have a dacha where we grow everything that can be grown in Krasnoyarsk. We don't have any pets, but maybe when my husband and I retire from work and move to the dacha, we'll get some.
The neighbors' cats often come to our dacha.
My most frequent guest is Vaska the cat. He loves to be photographed and happily poses for me.
A light-colored cat also comes in, I named her Cutie, she meows softly and we treat her to something tasty.
And the black cat—I call him "Devil," he's a bit crazy, running around the flower beds, breaking flowers. In this photo, he's all wet; the hooligan boys from the neighborhood gave him a bath.
In the spring, Gray Dog often visited us. When we arrived at the dacha, he would run up to us, we would pet him, and feed him bones. In the summer, the owners put him on a chain.
Every time I drive past village courtyards, I long to live in the countryside and have a dog in the yard, a cat with kittens, wake up to the crowing of a rooster, and raise chickens and ducks.
My son Oleg sent me these cute photos of his pets. They were taken in the village of Bolshoe Ozero. The boys went fishing on Lake Bolshoe in the Sharypovsky District over the weekend. It's located 345 km from Krasnoyarsk.
These are the sweet moments my son captured on his phone.
Along the way, we came across domestic geese—gray and white. They wandered along the village street, against the backdrop of a large green hill.
Further on we came across a flock of white geese; they were sitting near their yard on the bare ground, probably resting; nearby there were three more white geese and two goslings.
After driving a little, we again met four large, beautiful gray geese near the daylily or iris bushes.
A little further along the fence, beyond which asters and marigolds bloomed profusely, a large flock of grey geese strutted primly. The geese were grazing on knotweed.
There were also pigs walking along the street near the fence, they were also eating green grass, and a ginger cat was wandering nearby.
And again the pigs - seven little pigs were running after their mother pig, along the blue fence, behind which multi-colored petunias were blooming.
The piglets caught up with their mother and began to nibble on the grass - juicy, bright green, already near another fence, behind which daylilies and cosmos were blooming.
And this is Lake Bolshoe - beautiful, with clear waters, surrounded by hills.
A herd of camels, photo from Kazakhstan.
I am always touched by such pictures and they evoke a thrill in my soul.