Watching a rather inane street performer, his lips curled in contempt (or, perhaps, naturally), he maintained an unblinking stare--this smoking man of Arbat. Of course, his eyes were concealed by his sunglasses and his "Lenin" cap, but, for some reason, I was convinced of it.
And as he watched on, I watched him, admittedly pleased that I could detect his smoke through my viewfinder. Then I took a second to review the existent photos, and pointed the camera back up.
He was gone.
Spring has got to be wildlife photographers' favorite, since it is baby-animal season, even in metropolitan areas! I found these ducklings--slightly hesitant, though ready to proceed with further investigation of their murky element--in the pond outside the New Maiden (Novodevichy) Convent in Moscow.
After the Patriarch's Ponds, the New Maiden is my favorite place in the city. Admittedly, a part of me feels immeasurable, infinite nostalgia: after all, I grew up a subway stop away, and I engaged in a lot of sporting activities nearby as a child. But more immediately important, this is a somewhat central, yet quiet place to get away from the nonstop buzz of a massive city.
The ducklings' mother carefully oversaw their water training and suspiciously avoided my telephoto lens (almost, hah!). Normally, I try to check the specific names for the wildlife I photograph--if it is unfamiliar--but I'm ashamed to say that I'm not sure what these bright orange ducks are called, though I saw them all over the city, and though surprisingly beautiful they are.
Woland to Matthew Levi:
“But would you be so kind as to ponder this question: what would your good do if evil didn't exist, and what would the earth look like if all the shadows disappeared? After all, shadows are cast by things and people. Here is the shadow of my sword. But shadows also come from trees and living beings. Do you want to strip the entire globe of all trees and living things just because of your fantasy of enjoying naked light? You are stupid."
(M. Bulgakov, The Master and Margarita, ch. 29)
It's been a while since I've seen swans.
Years ago, my then-little dachshund Sharikov (named after Bulgakov's protagonist in the Heart of a Dog, because I adopted him) lept into Lake Ontario on a number of occasions to chase up to half a dozen (!) swans at once. He did so fearlessly--barking at them right out of the water--despite their obvious attempts to lure him deeper into this enormous lake and conceivably peck him to death and drown him.
Yet during my recent trip to Russia and Northern Europe, I've encountered white swans practically everywhere I went (insert Leda-and-the-Swan joke here). This particular specimen is from Moscow--the Patriarch's Ponds, specifically--where he torpedoed local ducks as aggressively as Torontonian swans did my Sharikov.
Of course, the Patriarch's Ponds are a magical place.
Bulgakov simply recorded this fact in the Master and Margarita (here I come full circle!). So, perhaps, this wasn't a swan at all, but Woland himself or, at least, one of his underlings. It would be quite fitting for the ugly and fanged Azazello to masquerade as a beautiful swan waiting for Margarita to give her diabolical lotion--so that she could turn into a witch.
But these are just my suspicions. ;)
As of today, I plan to fly to Moscow, my hometown, for the first time since doing my PhD research at the federal archives in late 2009, along with a number of other European destinations. (In contrast, I've traveled throughout Japan three times in that same time period. Treachery!)
I suspect the only updates to this blog--if any--would be of the travel-adventure (misadventure) kind. So, as I attempt to actually get some rest during my much-needed vacation, you get an equally needed break from my blogging spam!
The two images below (of forever-"empigeoned" Dostoyevsky outside of Leninka and Tsaritsyno) were taken with a point-and-shoot. Hopefully, I can produce some heavy hitters this time around.
See you...errr...blog you in a few weeks!
