Автор - laza30
In my city there are many different streets: both big, and small, and wide, and narrow, with tall houses, and not very, but my own street is only one.
I don’t know the history of the appearance of my yard, my parents lived in another city (district), but I know a lot of events that took place on my street, I know every tree, every nook where you can hide during a hide-and-seek game. I know almost all the children of my yard. Together we often organize various competitions, play, joke, talk.
I love my street at any time of the year. In the spring lilacs bloom on the trees, from this everything around us is saturated with the pleasant scent of flowers. In the summer, the entire courtyard becomes like an anthill, because there are a lot of people on the street, as all residents go to bask in the sun. In autumn, the courtyard is painted in all shades of red and yellow, it becomes unusually beautiful. In winter, everything falls asleep and it becomes quiet around.
My street is the place to which I have a special feeling. She is very dear to me, because here I grew up, met new people, learned a lot. It is with my court that many happy and joyful moments of my life are connected. My street will forever remain in my heart no matter where I live in the future.