I know this is something of a cliche, but I felt that this more than anything else really captured the feel of being here in this ancient, ancient city, looking out over the brick buildings, feeling the bite and chill of the damp air, smelling the autumn air with the death of summer in it. Another season gone by, so swiftly. I begin to understand why all the young Russians were out and partying so hard three weeks ago, when the weather was hot and steamy.
I miss the change of seasons. The ephemeral nature of the summer here is what makes it so precious, so valuable. If I could paint, and someday I hope to do better than an bumbling grade schooler, this is how I would paint the feeling here, tonight.
