And under my window, the chestnuts have turned brown...

And under my window, the chestnuts have turned brown... but you know, it's strange, some trees are still green, like the grass (how wonderful!), while others have almost lost all their leaves.

The wind, like a marauder, tears the leaves from the yellowed trees and they fly... fly... Those that are already lying on the ground, it chases along the paths... sometimes twisting them into whirlwinds, trying to lift them into the air, but they, huddled together in flocks, refuse to obey its will, and just crawl along the ground, clinging to the grass and bushes...

Sometimes I am grateful to him, as he suddenly begins to tear apart the grey clouds that fill the sky, and then the sun's rays burst through the windows that have formed, and everything that was dull grey-yellow suddenly becomes golden...

It is especially beautiful when this happens at sunset - the sun's rays are pink and orange, illuminating the tops of the trees in the park; the houses towering above the trees turn from grey to pink; the pot-bellied clouds look like rosy, fried doughnuts covered in apricot jam, and the air seems especially clear and crisp. The main thing is to see it in time, because you can only admire this sunset beauty for a few minutes.

In general, autumn feels like the rightful mistress, I would even say that it has gone wild.

Autumn is generally a foolish and reckless woman, and therefore quickly fades and turns from a lush, rich beauty into a grey, dreary, dirty beggar, mourning her former grandeur and beauty until the end of her days...