On my balcony, under a red setting sun, July 10, 2006

Walking the streets of Novgorod at night are couples, friends, and co-workers. And public displays of affection are far from unacceptable.

Girlfriends walk arm in arm while they cross the street. A father holds his son’s hand as they stroll home alongside Kochetova Street. Man and woman, both dressed in green, each lend a hand, sharing the responsibility of a half-empty beer bottle suspended in between them.

Though the hot days and crowded buses with their sweaty and solemn patrons suggest a Russia stifled by oppression in its various forms, there is a not-to-be-overlooked social/communal atmosphere brimming under the brilliant sunsets and in the tightly held palms of neighbors, relatives, and lovers.

It makes me miss my girlfriend Blair. We are embedded in our own separate adventures this summer on very separate sides of this Earth. I wish I could walk the streets of Novgorod with her tonight—show her the Kremlin and the beach along the Volkhov River.

Perhaps, someday, I will return to Russia with her and together we can be another one of the hand-holding couples seeking out secluded places among the apartment buildings and bus stops—stealing kisses under this ruby red sky.