I love autumn/ In autumn is warm, but rainy. I like to play football, ride skate and a bike. But I don't like to go to school. Summer is over and it is autumn again, beautiful as ever. It is a season when the trees are simply fantastic — yellow, red, green and brown, not just one brown, but browns of all possible shades: light brown, dark brown, yellowish brown and all of a richness that only an artist can see and describe. Still very warm, but it is already sad from a smell of the left summer, multilayered, prjano-sourish. Trees dump the foliage burnt for a summer. It seems that trunks darken, they have got tired and wish to sleep. Unruly small spiders with improbable speed spin webs, and you, without seeing, break their traps.
The first snow has gone in the late autumn. I was even then it was clear that winter came. No need to look at the calendar to see - here to stay cold and serious. I live in the depths of Russia, I am not accustomed to long winters and blizzards. Maybe that's why I love this time of year, because in another way does not work. Snow storms, dangerous cold and long dark nights - all this filled winter in the far north.
My life is not as colorful as that of my peers in large cities such as Moscow and Saratov, but I like it. I've never complained about his mother. I never asked to change their place of residence, because in every moment there is something special, something memorable wishes. I remember her every winter. Just because there were only 12. I remember the first time I skated the first time I saw a brown bear in the winter, as the first blind snowman and then it broke. I remember very clearly a few moments, because they were real, and remember this winter.
I want to make it a special, like others, was indulgent to the inhabitants of our village and bitter cold of those who go on a long journey. I love winter, love ...
I love autumn/ In autumn is warm, but rainy. I like to play football, ride skate and a bike. But I don't like to go to school. Summer is over and it is autumn again, beautiful as ever. It is a season when the trees are simply fantastic — yellow, red, green and brown, not just one brown, but browns of all possible shades: light brown, dark brown, yellowish brown and all of a richness that only an artist can see and describe. Still very warm, but it is already sad from a smell of the left summer, multilayered, prjano-sourish. Trees dump the foliage burnt for a summer. It seems that trunks darken, they have got tired and wish to sleep. Unruly small spiders with improbable speed spin webs, and you, without seeing, break their traps.
The first snow has gone in the late autumn. I was even then it was clear that winter came. No need to look at the calendar to see - here to stay cold and serious. I live in the depths of Russia, I am not accustomed to long winters and blizzards. Maybe that's why I love this time of year, because in another way does not work. Snow storms, dangerous cold and long dark nights - all this filled winter in the far north.
My life is not as colorful as that of my peers in large cities such as Moscow and Saratov, but I like it. I've never complained about his mother. I never asked to change their place of residence, because in every moment there is something special, something memorable wishes. I remember her every winter. Just because there were only 12. I remember the first time I skated the first time I saw a brown bear in the winter, as the first blind snowman and then it broke. I remember very clearly a few moments, because they were real, and remember this winter.
I want to make it a special, like others, was indulgent to the inhabitants of our village and bitter cold of those who go on a long journey. I love winter, love ...