Baikal

This is Baikal, the last minutes before the sudden onset of darkness. No matter how much I watched this scene, I could not stop admiring these people. While we, having plunged into the cool waters before going to bed, scattered into tents and sleeping bags, these brave men, one or two at a time, pushed the boats into the water, and leaning on the oars, after ten to fifteen minutes they turned into small black dots, and soon disappeared completely from sight. Disappeared into the night.
They disappeared, leaving a strange feeling, something like Aitmatov’s or something: a mixture of anxiety, admiration, and a sense of the power of what was happening.

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