Autumn forest! Who among us did not walk in the autumn forest, did not admire the beauty of fallen leaves, a golden carpet wrapped around the earth.
It is in the autumn in the forest that everything becomes fabulous and unusual. Scarlet aspen leaves look like ripe apples, yellow willow leaves on boats, and maple leaves on golden stars. The silvery spiderlets shine in the sun, the bright rowan brush blushes purposely. On the forest edge you can still find the boletus, pink russula, slippery mushrooms, fragrant redheads. On old big stumps huddle to each other. In the forest stream, the water is so clear that every blade of grass can be seen. Good in the autumn forest.
Fresh and clear air. The sky is blue. The sun caresses. But suddenly the wind breezed and the forest rustled, the birch trees whispered, creaking with their powerful tops of pine.
What are you rowing about, autumn forest?
Maybe you say goodbye to the sunny summer, with the warm days of golden autumn? What whisper the leaves of birch, maple, aspen, whirling in a slow dance and sinking to the ground, covering it with a multi-colored carpet? The woods are murmuring, the trees are talking, they say goodbye to the still warm sun, the blue sky, flocks of birds flying to the south.
Goodbye, sunny days, summer rains, forest flowers, grass. “Farewell, see you in the spring,” gently whispers a white-birch birch to its stern friend, a silent oak tree.
Soon the forest will be empty, the trees will be dropped. It will become hollow, empty. Wild goose go on long journey. Cutting the blue of the sky, the wedge of the cranes will rise to the sky.
And the forest roars, saying goodbye to the autumn, preparing for a cold and snowy winter.