Childhood

I grew up on the outskirts of a big city in Russia.
We had nature at the thresholds of our homes.
In the winter we, in groups, used to ride sledges. All over were ice arenas which we helped to cover with ice. Or, right away after school, we played hockey on the driveways of our apartment building.
Or digged tunnels in the snow mountains created by the snow-cleaning tractor. Or, on the same pile, we, boys'n'gals, used to fight for the top, pushing each other down - everyone was for himself or can enter a conspiracy "gang", if such threatened to form. The one on the top declared himself the tsar and all responsibility for defending the throne rested on him.
Not really far and luckily enough, we had a really huge water basin created along with Hydro Electrical Station with some several plages (sand and stony) - all of them had their own advantages. All summer along we enjoyed ourselves playing 'catch-up" jumping from piers out there.
Or rushed on bicycles around the suburbs, or went on fishing.
Or made ourselves wood guns equipped with rubber threads and capable of projecting aluminum wire pieces - "bullets"- and led gang wars. No injuries I heard of.
Or, in the winter, we gathered "on" someone's place (apartment), while the parents were on job, and organised World Cup Hockey Championships playing pretty well designed Soviet toy hockey set. Each representing a country drawn by pulling a scrap of paper from the hat.
And much more real fun.
Of course, perils existed. As fights, too. It's life. But it is was a free and happy life.
Lots and lots of free scientific, art, sports, technical "circles" - studios - existed.
Despite demonism of totalitarian regime and propaganda, our - and our adults' - favorite and never punished anecdotes were about then State leaders and marasmus of society.

And I forgot one thing.
In July, every year we "celebrated" Den' Ivana Kupala( the Ivan Kupala Day).
On that day every one had to be watered.
Not only all of us were wet, but whole our 119-apartments building was a piece of moisture. Some adults got their too. Others of them, alas, refused (without sense of humor or, maybe, being under weight of their everyday problems).