Perm, Russian Federation
Like the Volga in NN, the banks of the Kama River here in Perm are also hemmed in by concrete embankments. Slightly less in width than the Volga at NN and appearing less turbid a sullen sky hangs over its surface. Some kind of inland gull dips in for food and I see the little fish occasionally jumping. Over the traffic noise above me in the city I can over hear three people on water’s edge laughing uproariously over matters unknown. The main story teller is laughing so much that he can’t continue the with his humorous tale. And soon all three are slapping thighs and rolling around. From my vantage point above the concrete slopes I can see up river to smoke stacks and a riverside industrial site. Seemingly not far from these stacks are burgeoning high rise estates. To the north over the river are smaller private riverside plots with quaint cottages on them. And in the distance I see a rise and all the way up to it is green with the characteristic canopy outline of broad and pointy tree tops: pines, firs and beeches. Behind me in the park land four young women are racing their ponies and horses at full gallop down the centre of the park. They look so intense as they speed past, horse hair and girl manes flowing and tossing in the wind and motion behind them. And just now a single fighter jet roars overhead heading southwest. Soon it’s beyond earshot and I again hear families talking, while I play my game of picking out words and phrases from their conversations that I fail to understand.