A fine thing in Almaty, Trotsky’s wife Natalya wrote, was “the snow — white, clean, and dry.” After his exile in Kazakhstan, he would only move farther and farther away from the motherland and never return. And yet, the couple would recall their sojourn here fondly.
Underneath this landscape hushed by snow are dark, startling, and forgotten histories. May the traveller always seek to know what gives its beauty depth.
The Book-Butterfly 