Young Naturalist

When I was little, I subscribed to a late-Soviet magazine for children about the environment called the Young Naturalist. It was published on low-quality, cigarette-thin paper that wasn't meant to last and did not have much of the kind of photography that would appeal to children. Yet I have vivid memories of reading it--the act more so than the content; though at times I suddenly get the Russian name of some rare animal in my head when watching a David Attenborough documentary only to realize that I must've memorized it years ago.

That experience goes with another--being out in the woods with my parents when I was as young as two years old. Perhaps a false memory based on stories and old, damaged photographs below, we walked for miles picking mushrooms to fry and pickle or just enjoyed being away from hot and smog-filled summer Moscow. My mother never misses the opportunity to jokingly remind me of how good a child I was back then (evidently, to emphasize my later rebellious phases).

And so what seems like another lifetime in a country that no longer exists cycles back with a vengeance every time I am out on a hike in the Canadian-prairie woods or the mountains of the American Northwest, the phenomenological continuum expanding and contracting like a spring.

 

Mobile Overload

In the last few weeks of smartphone photography, the Sun made a return to the mountains, and a barely detectable, albeit posed, smile--to my face. 

It replaced the all-consuming Gray.  

But for how long? 

By the way, I didn't realize that what feels like a natural facial expression makes me appear so distraught. I must use this to my advantage! ;)

Today in Mobile

The following smartphone photograph captured a snooty intellectual philosophizing on the subject of Heidegger's birthday amidst the yellowing blades of grass in an aspen grove. 

The scholar in question later concluded that "Heidegger" sounds a lot like his own name, Roediger.

This Week in Mobile

This week in smartphone photography: bad puns is what the Internet is all about.

Besides, I couldn't resist.

After all, whenever I do something "badass," I feel a little like Vladimir Putin, who has successfully positioned himself in this manner. 

Swimming for an hour in cold glacial lakes qualifies, n'est-ce pas? 

And just like earlier in the summer, I swam with the Moon on my left and the Sun on my right. Regularized swim strokes--below, repeated cycles of Nature--above. 

Postscriptum. The blue, daytime Moon was photographed with a telephoto lens a bit later, not a smartphone, but I trust in your intellectual abilities, Dear Reader! ;) 

From Thunderstorm to Thunderstorm

I consider myself a cautious person. 

Although, after last year's visit to Tokyo, my friends there started referring to crossing the street on a red light as "walking like a Russian." 

And then there was that time that I came too close to wild animals. 

Also, there was... 

Okay, I should amend the above to being "cautious by Russian standards." 

Because we, Russians, can be pretty reckless, and I'm certain that you've seen at least one Youtube video demonstrating the latter (more like ten!).  

Friday night, I went open-water swimming...BETWEEN TWO THUNDERSTORMS. 

I was not trying to become the lucky recipient of a DARWIN AWARD. In fact, I even checked the forecast--HOURLY!--and the sky was blue. Proof:

Furthermore, there were several paddleboarders out on the lake with the same idea. Americans. This tells me that I'm no more reckless than the typical inhabitants of the greater Pacific Northwest. (You should watch them perform helicopter rescues out here, but that's a story for another time!)

Oh, and the post-swim storm clouds? They looked like this: 

Smartphone photo.