Each person in his native city has its favorite place - those where you come, when sad or when full of joy the senses. About this place only you know, this place is only yours, and you never mentioned it to anyone going to tell him only you поверяешь their joy and sadness. I also have a favorite area - this is our city Park, and I want to tell about it. Already for several years have passed since then, as we settled into our apartment. Around our house were small groves, and my parents spent weekends and even holidays. But as the years passed, and with them, gradually disappeared green lawn, planting of bird cherry trees and bushes. In their place built a new residential districts. And it was sad that they left irrevocably our green friends. Having grown up in front of our eyes preschool put before the house of poplar trees and saplings of fruit trees, but these trees are still not returned the joyful moments, when we ran freely plantation. That's why I go to the city Park and the more often I catch myself thinking, what really loved him - gentle, light-green in spring, bright and colourful summer, combing and yellow in autumn, quiet and white in the winter. Here in front of me waving a bunch of birch and sisters, their soft, light leaves trembling in the wind, as wings on a white dress. Прислонишься to the white trunk, and it seems that you hear on it crawl slogger-ants, and the birch tells the story of his life. Here is where you grew up sturdy young дубочки, and now I see возмужавшие strong oaks, see, as to their branches fly the birds and the jump proteins. I sit on the bench and admire the blue spruce - favorite tree of my childhood,fun chanting the neighborhood children playing in the classics near shopping center recently here построевшигося. I imagine the new year's tree that was in the shiny toys and gleaming «rain». And flash a long forgotten feeling when you Wake up in the morning with disturbing thought: and what's under the tree? What gifts brought Santa Claus? On this bench often sit young mothers with prams. Here they offer their children the secrets of nature: the young green grass, колющиеся stickers, the simple flowers, bird on a branch and an ant on the bark of a tree. On this bench rest those who have experience of grandparents who love their grandchildren even more than their own children. Here, in the Park, often occur in love. I smile, and somewhere to go the small trouble. Then I go out from the city Park and the feeling, as if drunk the living water of the spring nature. Quietly go on протоптанным narrow paths and feel refreshed and ready for a new, interesting and difficult cases, which are not afraid, because I have a place where I always sleep and where the gain strength. As well, that we have a city Park!
Дорогая Даша,
за твоё письмо. Было приятно услышать от
тебя!
В своем письме ты спрашивала меня о моем городе. Что ж,
Мне нравится жить в Брайтоне. Есть много парков и
кафе здесь. Вы знаете, многие люди приходят сюда за их
каникулы. Когда солнечно и тепло, они плавают в море.
Я люблю плавать и играть рядом с морем тоже.
Кстати, вы любите проводить отпуск на
Приморский? Хотела бы ты посетить меня в летние месяцы?
Есть новости о вашем лучшем друге?
Пишите обратно в ближайшее время!
С любовью,
Джейн
Each person in his native city has its favorite place - those
where you come, when sad or when full of joy
the senses. About this place only you know, this place is only yours,
and you never mentioned it to anyone going to tell him only you поверяешь their joy
and sadness. I also have a favorite area - this is our city Park,
and I want to tell about it.
Already for several years have passed since then, as we settled into our apartment. Around our house were small groves,
and my parents spent weekends and even holidays. But as the years passed,
and with them, gradually disappeared green lawn, planting of bird cherry trees and bushes. In their place
built a new residential districts. And it was sad that they left irrevocably our green friends.
Having grown up in front of our eyes preschool put before the house of poplar trees and saplings of fruit trees,
but these trees are still not returned the joyful moments, when we ran freely plantation.
That's why I go to the city Park and the more often I catch myself thinking, what really loved him - gentle,
light-green in spring, bright and colourful summer, combing and yellow in autumn, quiet and white in the winter.
Here in front of me waving a bunch of birch and sisters, their soft, light leaves trembling in the wind,
as wings on a white dress. Прислонишься to the white trunk, and it seems that you hear on it
crawl slogger-ants, and the birch tells the story of his life. Here is where you grew up
sturdy young дубочки, and now I see возмужавшие strong oaks, see, as to their branches fly
the birds and the jump proteins. I sit on the bench and admire the blue spruce - favorite tree of my childhood,fun
chanting the neighborhood children playing in the classics near shopping center recently here построевшигося.
I imagine the new year's tree that was in the shiny toys and gleaming «rain». And flash
a long forgotten feeling when you Wake up in the morning with disturbing thought: and what's under the tree? What gifts
brought Santa Claus? On this bench often sit young mothers with prams.
Here they offer their children the secrets of nature: the young green grass, колющиеся stickers,
the simple flowers, bird on a branch and an ant on the bark of a tree. On this bench rest
those who have experience of grandparents who love their grandchildren even more than their own children.
Here, in the Park, often occur in love. I smile, and somewhere to go the small trouble.
Then I go out from the city Park and the feeling, as if drunk the living water of the spring nature.
Quietly go on протоптанным narrow paths and feel refreshed and ready for a new, interesting
and difficult cases, which are not afraid, because I have a place where I always sleep and where the gain strength.
As well, that we have a city Park!