Summer night is so bright that it looks more like dusk. The saving coolness, which replaced the persistent heat of the day, gently envelops the sleeping houses. The dawn is just about to dawn, and the sun will gild in the tops of poplars. Soon the city will wake up, lazily yawning the arches of entrance courtyards. The wipers rhythmically rustle their brooms along the dusty pavements. Watering machines with a fresh shower will wash all the flower beds and alleys. The first cars and passers-by will run. The windows and balconies will open in turn. Tape recorders will play, as well as radio receivers. Good morning, my beloved city!
The morning of the day off begins with grandmother’s ruddy pancakes with jam. Dressed up, go for a walk around the city. We walk on washed streets,
Today we came very early to come closer, stroke the rough little forehead and put the bun in the curious, moist tip of the trunk. Behemoth plunged into the pool, from which only two angry little eyes stick out, so we immediately go to the giraffe. The spotted neck arches, as if bowing as a token of gratitude for the fragrant apple thrown by us. All predators in cages, lazily lounging, yawn broadly, exposing sharp white fangs. They are waiting for their breakfast. We respectfully watch how easily their powerful jaws are cut off with huge pieces of meat and crackle with powerful bones like a cracker. Naughty monkeys already frolicking in the open aviary. The grass is strewn with carrot and apple sticks. So you can and we treat them with a couple of bananas. When we leave the zoo, the sun is already at its zenith.
Heated air crushed his cheeks.
The ancient architectural masterpieces in the neighborhood with modern buildings look very harmonious. All the squares are amazing in their scope, and monuments are grandeur. Tulips are blossoming all round and fanciful fountains are beaten by tight refreshing streams. I can say with certainty that this is the best city in the world. He fills the soul with pride and admiration.
We go along the modern overpass bridge across the navigable river. We look from above on the bright, white, river trams, full of noisy tourists and city dwellers. Exactly from the center of the bridge a landscape opens, as if from the century before last: the branches of the river embrace an emerald green island, in the center of which stands an ancient cathedral. His plain windows play in the sun with multicolored stained glass windows, and the overstuffed turrets seem to cut into the sky. And it seems that now a carriage with a coat of arms will pass along the avenue, a beautiful lady will emerge from it and, raising the hem of a rich dress, step an elegant slipper on a cool marble threshold.
Walking on the bridge, again plunged into the modern rhythm of life. The park of culture and rest carefully hides us from the hot rays in the shade of thick, sprawling crowns of mighty trees. We swing, spin and fly on all sorts of attractions to exhaustion. Well and then we have a rest on a silent shop, having a snack juicy apples and tangerines.
Slowly we wander about the long familiar streets, enjoying the evening coolness. With a full breast we inhale a tart bouquet of floral fragrances from the front gardens heated by the day.
The city of my childhood. you are always with me. Thanks for the warm memories, sincerity, lightness, beauty and a wonderful feeling of mutual love.