I bought this photo for a friend for her birthday. Her father was from the Ukraine; a handsome man who was once a Cossack in the tsar's army.
While living in L.A. my friend and I went to a dance performance of a Ukrainian dance troupe. My knees hurt just watching them.
Of course these days my knees hurt all the time. I might be facing some knee surgery to fix damage done, most likely, long ago when I skied every weekend. One too many falls with my knee twisting in the wrong direction. Eventually your past catches up with you.