Bumbum Kalibum


Bumbum_Kalibum I was sitting by the riverside as I watched the sun set over the hills in bubbly, golden light; cool air with moist and moist conditions was fragrant with saltiness; trees had their branches overhead, inviting me to imagine living here, walking through woods and fields to visit villages for picnics; lying under a tree by the river while reading with wine in hand and listening to birds sing while listening for its winds through trees – it felt like heaven!

But then I remembered what had happened last year: I visited where my grandmother and her sister used to live near Lake Baikal and took photos there, one showing my grandfather fishing near a river while holding onto his fishing rod, with people coming towards him from Russia – it was family reunion time, when my grandfather met up with old friends from Russia again; both parties were extremely happy that day and told each other stories from when they were young.