How to write a story “Morning in an autumn forest” with supporting words quietly...? Essay on the topic: “Autumn morning outside the window” How nice it is on an autumn morning in the forest.

Unforgettable summer days are warmed by the rays of the gentle sun, fanned by a fresh wind, washed by cool rain. These are the days of green grass, sweet fruits and radiant flowers. Summer is the most wonderful time of the year. In summer it is beautiful both at sea and in the mountains, but the best thing is in the summer in the morning forest.

Morning in the forest always comes quickly and unexpectedly. The queen of night still reigns in the dormant forest - and then in an instant the morning dew appears on the grass, leaves of trees and bushes, which stretch with branches, quivering. Birds, awakening from sleep, fill the air with their songs and fly up to the treetops. The red sun emerges from behind the forest, and the birds joyfully greet it with discordant voices. The majestic sun reveals the scarlet mantle, the stars turn pale, and after a while disappear along with the silver moon.

The first rays of the sun, morning dew and the singing of birds awaken forest flowers: they, roused from the dew, raise their heads and pull them towards the sun. The aroma of flowers awakens butterflies, who begin to flutter their colorful wings.

There are trees around me, the whole air is filled with the scent of pine. High above, between the pine branches, I see a turquoise sky and a shining sun. But here is a lawn where little sunlight penetrates. On a green mat of grass there are bright red strawberries, as if someone had lost bright beads. I sit down on the grass, lean my back against a tree and try to see a piece of sky or a ray of sun between the dense tops of the forest.

The fresh morning breeze, playfully flying between the trees, dries the remaining dew, which sparkles in the sun with gemstones.

Life begins to boil in the forest. The ants wake up and begin to run back and forth in a chain, collecting food; the hum of bees and bumblebees is heard in the air, spiders scurry their webs in the hope of finding prey.

The voices of forest birds become louder, as if they are greeting the morning sun, rejoicing at the new day. A brown hare appeared from behind a bush, looking for something tasty to eat. It's hard to spot because it's camouflaged in summer colors. A pile of rotten leaves began to stir. A hedgehog with a large family emerges from it: it’s time to start the morning hunt.

If you look closely among the dense branches, you can see a red squirrel with a fluffy tail. This animal is very thrifty: although winter is just around the corner, it already has a cache ready, full of tasty and healthy food.

Next to me I saw a tubercle. Having pushed it aside, a small mushroom appeared to my gaze, which timidly presented its right to exist in the summer forest.

The summer forest is a real paradise: the air is clean and fresh, you want to breathe deeply. The bright pink sky transforms into light turquoise and then pure blue. A fresh summer morning turns into a bright summer day. It floats far beyond the horizon, only to return again after a long summer day and a short summer night.

Story morning in the autumn forest

Answers:

Winter morning beautiful with its cold, powerful sun peeking out from behind the snowdrifts, a spring morning warms with its warm light and green buds, a summer morning is pleasant with its freshness and coolness, and only an autumn morning enchants with its mystery and atmosphere. In the autumn forest, the mornings are cool and humid. To feel the solitude with nature, you just need to take in more air into your lungs. Gold and copper leaves with a carved border lie quietly on a bright autumn carpet covering the freezing sticky ground. The visible sky is dark, gloomy, filled with puffy gray clouds. Sometimes there is a fine, cold rain, pouring in small tears from the sky. The autumn forest is quiet in its own way - calm, leisurely and sleepy. Occasionally you can hear the swarming of animals in the foliage or the farewell moans of birds. Somewhere a dried twig will crunch, somewhere a squelching sound will be heard in a frozen and dirty river, along which leaves float like boats. Autumn is so charming, but so lifeless.

Quiet autumn morning. You wake up in the village, slowly roll over onto the other side, lie down and look out the window. You lie there for a long time, and you don’t want to get out from under the warm blanket. I don’t want to, but I have to. You get up, throw on your raincoat and put on warm socks, and run outside to wash yourself. You leave the house, and it’s a fairy tale outside. Nature has put on her most colorful dress. You reach the well, wash your face with cold water, it smells of rotten leaves, and you think: “This is the smell of autumn!” Returning to the hut, you will find your grandmother’s old sweater in the chest, put on a warm hat, rubber boots, take a basket, put a knife, bread, compass and matches in your bag. You lock the door and go into the forest, walking quickly but quietly.

You entered the forest and are immediately blinded by a bright carpet of autumn leaves. You are walking through the forest and thinking about something of your own, about what warms your soul, when suddenly you hear a rustling sound and freeze for a moment. You try to find the reason, you turn your head left and right, your gaze stops at some small animal jumping on the ground, it turns out that it is a squirrel. You go further and find the first mushroom - boletus, you admire it for a long time and only then carefully cut it off, trying not to damage the mycelium. And here comes another mushroom, and another, you run from one mushroom to another. This is how a whole basket of mushrooms is collected. Deciding to take a break, you sit down under a tree, take bread out of your bag and eat half a piece. You sit under a tree for a long time, you feel warm and comfortable. Then you get up and, having found a birch tree, hug it and gain strength. Something warms your soul from within. Full of energy, you go home.

You carefully step along the golden leaves, when suddenly you stop and peer into the amber distance. You see a hare running somewhere in the distance, followed by a fox, you involuntarily grin and continue on your way. For a second it may seem like you are in a golden palace. Everything around shines, thin birch trunks, bent from moisture, form arches, and wide oak trees, like relief columns, stand impregnable for many years and will stand for centuries to come. Only the spruce stands out from this endless cycle of red, yellow, red, brown, gold, amber leaves. She stands like a throne for the queen of nature herself. Silence... You just hear the leaves rustling in the air and under your feet. And time seemed to stand still... Suddenly, knock-knock-knock, the woodpecker began his business. And again the chirping of birds, again the smell of rotten leaves. Coming out of the forest, you turn to face him and bow to the ground. Tears of happiness naturally appear in your eyes, you wipe them with the long sleeve of a sweater that smells of home, native fields and forests, lakes and rivers, and it seems that the warmth of someone’s very familiar hands warms your cheeks.

Entering the courtyard, you go into the hut and turn on the stove, make yourself some tea, sit on the porch and, sipping from a mug, look at the sunset, at the leaves, which, like birds, just falling from a branch, hang in the air for a second and fall, circling in a slow waltz. You sit like this for a long time, it’s already getting dark, and you sit and think about your own things, and time doesn’t matter to you...