The Plains of Siberia
Being over two years in the United States I have gotten used to its culture, traditions, and people. This country has become a second home for me, but I will never forget my motherland. I always remember the time when I was a little child. I would spend my summer holidays at my grandmother's in the Russian countryside in West Siberia. The place was surrounded with beautiful scenery. Thick cedar forests would suddenly turn into a sunny and bright meadow with lovely grass and vivid flowers rustling in the wind. Numerous small lakes would reflect the bright sun.
I will never forget the beauty of Siberian plains. It's one of those rare corners on the Earth where nature decided to show everything it was capable of. I frequently return to this place in my imagination. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. My lungs are filled with the clean and pure air, a noticeable change from the thick and polluted air of the outside world.
The light summer breeze, coming down through the trees, feels warm upon my face and is filled with the sweet smell of the tall cheerful grass. The blue sky is filled with scattered puffy, white like cotton clouds. Soft green hills surround me. I don't know where they begin or where they end. Far into the distance I can see an abandoned wooden farmhouse. I am alone with only my thoughts and emotions to keep me company.
Clusters of bright yellow sunflowers are growing amidst the green prairie grass. I pick a sunflower and take pleasure in its sweet fragrance. I pull each soft leaf off and toss it into the wind.
As I walk, the thick green prairie grass tickles my legs. Huge brown grasshoppers jump left and...