It was the second time we had ventured into the Summer Gardens, built in 1704 by Tsar Peter the Great.
The first time, in the middle of summer, a predictable chlorophyllin green predominated.
After three and a half months, Nature entered the scene. With the Autumn is setting in across Russia, contradicted the nomenclature chosen by the czar. It gilded the trees that grew on its soil.
The light reflected by the resistant foliage seemed to defy its solar genesis.
On a Friday afternoon, with sunset still far away, a restrained crowd of Peterburgers and outsiders invades it.
The Sudden Autumn of St. Petersburg and the Summer Gardens
Visitors walk along its avenues, lined with autumn-colored trees, under the petrified gaze of the hundred marble statues lined up on both sides of the main avenue, parallel to the Fontanka branch of the Neva River.
Here and there, they stop for photos and selfies celebrating life.
Where the dead leaves accumulate, they pick them up and throw them into the air, over their heads and those of their loved ones.
Several visitors insist on taking photos and selfies. They settle down in cozy corners of the garden, chatting.
They collect leaves that they carefully select, and weave vegetable garlands with which they crown themselves with the autumnal beauty of St. Petersburg.
Even made of marble – not even the originals carved by Venetian sculptors – a few statues of mythological figures contribute to the emotions generated in the gardens, with expressions of surprise or slight indignation.
In the middle of one of the avenues, two children, one of them adorned with golden garlands, perch on the base of a pedestal, at the feet of a black bronze statue.
The figure seems to be contemplating them in the right place.
Immortalizes Ivan Krylov, the most popular and renowned Russian creator of fables.
In the early days of his work, he was an admirer and translator of La Fontaine who, over time, became independent and specialized in writing satirical fables.
The Obvious French Inspiration of the Palace of Versailles
In a way, this evolutionary inspiration is comparable to that which was at the genesis of the Summer Gardens of Peter the Great that enchanted us.
They are said to have been designed by the Tsar himself, with the support of the Dutch landscapers Nicolaas Bidloo and, until 1726, by Jan Roosen.
Jean-Baptiste Le Blond, a French architect who had recently arrived in St. Petersburg, took care of Frenchifying the project.
And he saw the task simplified by the influence that Gallic architecture and landscaping, particularly that of Paris, had on monarchs elsewhere.
Czars included.
At the turn of the 18th century, led by Peter the Great, the Russians triumphed in the Great Northern War. They were thus able to counter the expansion of the Swedish Empire to the east.
They took from them the lands between the Gulf of Finland and Lake Ladoga, crossed by the Neva River, where, in 1703, the tsar founded Saint Petersburg.
For some reason the tsar received his surname. As far as adorning and beautifying the new capital was concerned, Peter waited little or nothing. Much less did he spare himself the expense.
Louis XIV had completed the Palace of Versailles, including the colossal gardens attached, in 1662. From that year onwards, his court, the French government and countless others gradually moved there.
So much so that Versailles became the Gallic heart of wigs, satins, and superfluous pomp. Yet it was still the functional capital of France.
Stimulated by recent military triumphs, the expansion of the Russian Empire and the financial gains that triumphs over rivals brought, Peter the Great made a point of surpassing Louis XIV and the French buildings that, in fact, he had come to know a few years earlier.
In addition to the Summer Gardens, Tsar Peter built the adjacent Summer Palace and the Peterhof Palace complex.
This – which would come to be considered the unequivocal Russian Palace of Versailles – encompasses three monumental structures with French names: the Grand Palace, the Marly and, right on the south bank of the Neva River, the superlative Hermitage.
We ended Friday enjoying a double yellow sunset, still in the Summer Gardens.
A Tour of the Grand Palaces Around St. Petersburg
As we trudged along, we watched the twilight unfold from one of the drawbridges over the Neva. We also went to a bar called “Fidel”, one of the favourites of our host, a local, Alexei Kravchenko.
Even so, we managed to get up at a decent hour, in time to see what effect autumn was having on the other palaces of St. Petersburg.
The route we took to the west of the Gulf of Finland is fast.
As soon as we left, closer to the Peterhof Palace, with the island-city of Kronstadt to the north, traffic stops us, which frustrates Alexei. “This, on a Saturday morning, is really very strange.
Here on the phone I don’t see any accidents reported. You know what I think? Sunny autumn weekends are so rare in St. Petersburg that with all this lush yellow foliage… everyone must be going to the same place we are.”
Brief Tour of Peterhof Palace
The predominant trees in Peterhof were distinct from the oaks and maples of the Summer Gardens.
The few that had had or still had autumn leaves were victims of pruning. Edward Scissorhands radical that reduced them to triangular or square samples.
Nevertheless, a young couple walks among them, satisfied with the romantic privacy that we find ourselves breaking.
The main gardens of Peterhof are surrounded by more hedges than trees. The trees are spread out, giving it an almost forest-like appearance. As if that were not enough, a strong backlight darkens the front of the palace.
Peter and Paul Cathedral and the Infamy Expected from the Nazi Invaders
We therefore agreed to head to the Catherine Palace and its gardens. Along the way, we stopped to admire the almost pyramidal Peter and Paul Cathedral, full of domes.
In a way, a disciple of the Savior's much more famous story on the Shed Blood.
We find it surrounded by its own autumnal trees, reflected in one of the large lakes that flank it.
Just thirty-six years after it was completed, in full “Operation Barbarrosa“The Nazi forces that arrived in these parts of Russia ignored its beauty and sanctity. They used it as an artillery depot. And they caused substantial damage that was only repaired much later.
Traffic returns to the Pushkinsky block as the long Akademicheskiy Prospekt boulevard progresses.
We confirmed that Catherine Palace, its gardens and lakes, were, more than Peterhof, the favorite autumn weekend outing for the people of St. Petersburg.
The Stunning Autumnal Version of Catherine Palace
Just like we had seen in the Summer Gardens, there they collected fallen leaves and compared the exuberance of their garlands.
A few horse-drawn carriages carry delighted passengers around the Bolshoi Prud, the Great Lake, and in particular the Grotto Pavilion on the northern shore of this larger lake, opposite the Mosque and Turkish Bath.
Also among the yellow trees that matched the golden domes of Catherine's blue palace, worthy of enchanting fables, not necessarily those of Krylov.
The Nazis did even worse to the surreal rococo Catherine Palace, built by Empress Elizabeth (daughter of Peter the Great) in her mother's name than to the Peter and Paul Cathedral.
When they were forced to retreat from the devastating siege of Leningrad, they did everything they could to destroy the building.
They ended up leaving little more than the damaged exterior walls.
Reconstruction only began in 1957. It proved complex and time-consuming. In the end, it restored another of the Czars' sumptuous and multimillion-dollar estates on the outskirts of Saint Petersburg.
Vladimir Putin, the unassumed czar – to the widespread disbelief of Russians – appointed by Boris Yeltsin as his successor in Kremlin, in February 2022, aggravated without return, a whim of imperialist submission of Ukraine that began the year after our last trip to St. Petersburg, with the annexation of Crimea.
Since then, Autumns have continued to gild the majestic Boreal City.
The Russians, however, have even less reason to celebrate them.