Working on a Boat Through Russia
The whispering of the free growing grass whistled through the wind and into my ear. I could hardly make out the words. It was more of an understanding that I dare not complicate with the the written language. A tickling of both excitement and confusion spread an interesting blend of feelings through the tips of every hair on my body. “You are in Russia… feel the energy from the smiling forests and the pain of the oldest building.” Such contrasting emotions that merge under the same name: Russia.