Our street

Every person has the most expensive places in life. For me it’s my father’s house, my house, my street. When I was very young, my parents got an apartment in a new neighborhood on Druzhby Narodov Street. I believe that this name is symbolic, because friendship between people is the guarantee of the best feelings: friendship flows into love, without friendship there is no loyalty, from humanity humanity begins.

Twelve years ago, in the place of the corn field and collective farms, a “young” housing estate grew up. White houses hovered above the ground, as if touching the clouds with the grips of the TV antennas, and most resembled clouds. I and my peers grew with this area, here we are all close and familiar. Our street is straight and wide. In the summer there are many green, because one side of the forest fell, transformed into a cozy avenue. From another, sunny side, there are always a lot of flowers, nevertheless, trees have already grown up in twelve

years. The edge of the street goes into the field.

From the windows of the upper floors a wonderful view is opened – the vast green fields, which in the early summer are golden with sunflower shine. The other end of the street leans into the wide highway, behind which private buildings begin. Although one-story houses and pretend to the originality of architecture, I like high-rise buildings. It is especially pleasant to look at houses with patterns near the roofs – these are houses of improved planning. They stand out for their originality. The street is very long, and from both its edges are located “Supermarkets.” They are designed almost the same, so the street takes on a peculiar frame.

To serve residents on the territory of our microdistrict the necessary public and state institutions are planned. They are located on the first floors of many-storeyed houses, except for shops and cafes. Cafe “Lotta” has become a favorite place for youth recreation. And between the houses in cozy yards are children’s gardens and schools. In the surroundings of the houses is my

school. This three-story structure is built in such a way that many of its windows face the inner courtyard with flower beds in the middle, on which a large spruce grows. In front of the central entrance flames flower on the flower beds, and the birch avenue that leads to the school, creates coziness, raises the mood.

I love my street any time, but especially in the fall. This is the time when everything is flooded with gold, which is intermingled with the crimson. From the window of my house the whole neighborhood is well traced, and the light breeze of early autumn performs the room with the fragrance of withered foliage.

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Our street