Our all outside Moscow

Please do not break at the end of a theme-creation-will tell.

So often we are all-city residents. Small, large, this is secondary. I would like to tell you and show you what I see in his frequent trips to their native lands.
But let us start with the summer ...





Where do you still see stroynyashek such as not in the Tver province ...



Lake ...



Sunsets ...



Fields, whose number does not count ...



Herbs ... Each time, kneeling, crouching, opens a whole new world ...



And sometimes you want to see in the sky ...



But often, coming to a new country, find all the same ... That is not happy, and sometimes openly overshadows all the beauty of the world is our villages ... Places where people were born, worked, found each other in harmony with nature gave rise a new life, where umirali.S growth of cities, unfortunately, we are further and further away from her, from which they were a part of ...



And standing with downcast eyes-windows, wrinkled faces log walls, houses, small fortresses of those years ...



In these places there are no roads-left direction and impassable mud ...



Columns ... similarity roads ...



Old men, huts, lived out his life ... often hastily abandoned ...



Caught burly, where life is still warm ...



Some hide in the hope to survive ...



But, basically, all the same picture is everywhere ...



So you go from village to village, rejoice discoveries ... In fact, in the gray cities, crowds of people in crowded buildings that are springing up like mushrooms, never see natural mirrors ...



I do not understand how beautiful can be a simple blade of grass ...



Flowers, who often do not seem to come up with the artist and a madman ...



And, especially, the beauty of the sky ...



In one village I was very struck a house live detal.V grandmother dedom.Starenkie ... Nobody had not nuzhnye.Oni there for each other, more than to anyone ... And so once again not to burden their problems the neighbors, of which 5 of these people left the frail elderly, have prepared a cross ...



The village, according to various sources, was huge for those times, with a population of under 300 people, with its own the prayer house, a mill, two ponds, extensive cutting treatments. And the remaining 12 houses, of which residential-4 ... And so to live as much as their owners left ...
We stopped to spend the night at my grandfather. '83 Memory otmennaya.Vsego the need-to-air chistyy.Raz 3 months comes his daughter lead him three kilometers through the woods to the car (roads, as you saw, no) .Edut Moscow, removed his pension, bought in stores , carry it back.
Grandfather on the porch of the refrigerator 3. In one-bread and milk-cans in the other, in the third and delicacies in the form of frozen fish, sausages ...
And one other dog-Dick.



TV luxury that features two channels ...



Veranda with kitchenware ...



But he has a treasure-bake!



Again we go again, we see the unseen and wonderful ...



We think out of the way ...



Again, sadly ...



What was once a gathering place for people that hosted the fair, walking wedding, everything remained behind the veil of time.



Anyway you come reverently, still cross and put your bow. In the churches, even the destroyed living angels. Particularly sensitive equipment able to record sounds zvuki.Eti-Sluzhba.Pust people left, but the service continues ...



You look at the sky through the crumbling dome ...



You do not understand how it was possible to throw a die such beauty ...



Admiring a living painting the walls ...



And you shall know the tragedy and impulses ...



Here, you feel the wind came running, you see clouds on the horizon ...



Out the way, so there are some ...



Mashesh hand workaholic fields ...



By mostochkam and ravines ...



Runs away from the beauty of the city, in the gray days, with a promise to yourself to come back again and again ...
And believe me ... God is with us ...

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Continued ... End of zayavkam.Spasibo for endurance-I do not know a few photos in one post to embed.



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