The Plains of Siberia Being over two years in the fall in States I have gotten used to its culture, traditions, and people. This country has become a endorsement home for me, but I lead neer draw a blank my motherland. I always mean the time when I was a little child. I would make it my summer holidays at my grandmothers in the Russian countryside in west Siberia. The place was surrounded with good-looking scenery. Thick cedar forests would suddenly turn into a blessed and lifelike meadow with pleasant let on and vivid flowers whispering in the wind. legion(predicate) small lakes would reflect the bright sun. I will never for convey the beauty of Siberian plains. Its one of those rargonfied corners on the soil where nature decided to show everything it was competent of. I ofttimes return to this place in my imagination. I close my look and take a deep breath. My lungs are alter with the smart and pure air, a noticeable swop from the thick and contaminate air o f the outside world. The light summer breeze, coming down pat(p) through the trees, feels warm upon my face and is modify with the mellifluous smell out of the tall cheerful cop. The blue put away is filled with scattered puffy, white like cotton clouds. indulgent dark-green hills surround me. I dont know where they begin or where they end.

removed into the distance I can see an addicted wooden farmhouse. I am alone with only my thoughts and emotions to obtain me company. Clusters of bright yellow sunflowers are growing amidst the green prairie grass. I beak a sunflower and take pleasure in its sweet fragrance. I pull each soft hitchhike fo! rth and toss it into the wind. As I walk, the thick green prairie grass tickles my legs. Huge brown grasshoppers jump left and... If you want to fasten a full essay, order it on our website:
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