As we hunker down into the beginnings of winter, I need to find away to express the personality of my adopted city. I will continue to do the “street photography” thing when I can, but have decided to create lyrics and prosody to cope with the cold and snow. I am particularly fascinated with the street (Ulitsa) that I live on. Balyaeva Str. for me is a bastion of energy amid the cars, potholes and general malaise that a frozen winter brings.

As I strolled up and down Balyaeva, both to buy bread and to get a modicum of exercise, the most common event is the daily crossing with the local folks.  Everyone on their way to or from something important. Always the same path either left or right heading to some point. As is normal everywhere.

Hope Street

The cars aligned with their angry eyes facing each other,

each waiting, daring each other, to speak first.

All the while the speed bumps choose to slow the flight

of the machines that seek their way.

The precious Babushka, The Teenager, The small Child

all slowly walk, amber on and run like the devil daring life

to be an equal partner in the day’s push.

Precious, unseen moments, combine together to create

the great orchestrations  of the daily toil.

All leading to the heart and soul of Balyaeva,

the store on the corner.

I hope to add new dimensions to the surroundings I find myself in. I went looking for a musical signature for Balyaeva which represented the day’s snow and ice. As I searched, I blundered into a short piece written by Sergei Rachmaninoff, a Russian composer, pianist and conductor. Oh My Corn Fields. This piece was written in 1897. The mood of the song captured the mingling of the snow, ice, people and hope that is my dear Balyaeva.

Please Balyaeva, embrace me as well!