My hometown is my favorite — Мой родной город самый любимый

My hometown is my favorite - Мой родной город самый любимый

My grandfather says that when I was little, my hometown was just as clean, blooming and bright, people smiled at each other, went to demonstrations together, cleaned the yard and planted beautiful flowers on the beds. I believe him because I love my city too. It is associated with the most joyful memories of childhood, from digging in the sandbox with other kids, and ending Sunday trips to the movies with their parents.

In my favorite city there are many wonderful monuments, and they say that some of them were sculpted by a famous architect, to whom many interesting articles in the press are devoted. There are few old buildings on the city streets, but there are several spacious squares and green parks, where young couples walk and funny children run. I also love to spend time in one of these parks, where there are marble benches, summer sparkle rainbow fountains, and in winter under the feet rustling falling leaves.

I love my city for its wide sidewalks and white borders, flower beds with floral arrangements and especially for the proud nature of the people, handed down from generation to generation. Here the streets and monuments are named after national heroes, in the center in the evenings playing jazz bands and street musicians. In one of my favorite squares in the warm season strolling «live» sculpture, pleasing children and adults, and when the circus comes – it reigns real fun.

Here I feel safe with my relatives and friends, I know every nook and cranny and I think I can read the thoughts of any person. In the dark, my friends and I often sit in the trolley and go along the quiet streets to meet adventures. And on weekends we gather in the yard, have fun and communicate with each other or visit local museums and art galleries.

And in winter, especially if it snows in the evening, my city turns into a winter fairy tale. In such evenings the city as if calms down, instead of noise it becomes audible as snow falls, fluffy flakes outlining white contours of the house, the parked cars, benches and signs of city shops.

If I was offered to move to some other place, I would not agree. Because my hometown is the best on earth, my parents grew up in it, I begin to grow up, and someday I will be happy to tell my children about the best time, going through childhood memories and memorable dates.

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