Dear H., it is so misty here in Kiev that even London would be jealous. There were even a few flights delayed and cancelled yesterday because of that. Oh, I love mists! They are one of the reasons I can manage Kiev. When the mists arrive, I start having the most pleasurable night walks of the year. All sounds are muffled in the damp air; cars and people pass silently by, as if they were ghosts. You can see no farther than the next street light; the lamp posts stand all along the alley, like huge shining dandelions with halos of milky-blue light on top of their iron stems. You can see vapor coming out of your mouth with every heavy breath you make. The earth smells of rain and it feels so cozy, as if you were wrapped up in the warmest blankets ever that at the same time are as delicate and thin as air. Trees still have their leaves on and you can see the lamp light coming through them in heavy streams. I walk in the city as if it was a forest of metal, wood and concrete, where windows are caves filled with yellow, homely light, as if with gold.
With kisses,
O.
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