- Essays
- About the seasons
- Autumn
- Late fall
Late autumn is a sad and sad time. Most are in a bad mood when it comes. I really want sunshine and at least a little warmth. It's raining outside and the weather is cold. Nature is already ready for the coming of winter. The birdsong has died down, you can only hear the sound of raindrops hitting the windowsill and the rumble of thunder. All the songbirds have long since flown south, and the rest are getting their own food.
But even at this time you can see special beauty. The earth is covered with a yellow-red carpet, which can only be seen at this time of year. It is interesting to observe the life of the animal world. Many animals use this carpet as shelter. The fox can hide under the foliage and carefully watch the hare. You can notice how the foliage moves and rustles as the fox slowly but rapidly moves after a new victim. It’s good when the bunny manages to react to a suspicious rustle and run away.
There is a freshness in the air, it rains every day. The sky is crying inconsolably. First in small drops, and then in continuous rain. At such a moment you don’t want to be outside at all. There is an immediate risk of getting wet through and then getting sick. In this weather, you want to sit at home with a book and a cup of tea in your hands. What nasty weather it is outside, there is slush and dirt all around. Besides this, it is also cold. The cold penetrates to the skin. I want to get to the nearest room as quickly as possible to warm up.
The trees stand bare, except that on some branches the last leaf is barely hanging on. It will come off when a light breeze blows. It gets dark early, daylight hours decrease more and more every day. At the end of autumn, the first snow slowly falls, and there is light frost at night. But by morning the temperature rises and everything melts, turning into disgusting slush. Dirt sticks to shoes, you can notice that almost all people are unhappy and grumpy. Everyone is waiting for the paths to be covered with snow.
Each season is special in its own way. Few people like autumn. This is a time of longing and sadness. Everyone is waiting for winter to come quickly and cover the earth with a blanket of snow. Autumn is a rainy and sad time. Everything falls asleep and prepares to greet winter.
Autumn
I. Sokolov-Mikitov
The chirping swallows flew south a long time ago, and even earlier, as if on cue, the swift swifts disappeared.
On autumn days, the children heard the passing cranes crowing in the sky as they said goodbye to their dear homeland. They looked after them for a long time with some special feeling, as if the cranes were taking summer with them.
Quietly talking, the geese flew to the warm south...
People are preparing for a cold winter. The rye and wheat were mowed long ago. We prepared feed for the livestock. The last apples are being picked from the orchards. They dug up potatoes, beets, and carrots and put them away for the winter.
The animals are also preparing for winter. The nimble squirrel accumulated nuts in the hollow and dried selected mushrooms. Little voles brought grains into the holes and prepared fragrant soft hay.
In late autumn, a hardworking hedgehog builds its winter lair. He dragged a whole heap of dry leaves under an old stump. You will sleep peacefully all winter under a warm blanket.
The autumn sun warms less and less often, more and more sparingly.
Soon, soon the first frosts will begin.
Mother Earth will freeze until spring. Everyone took from her everything she could give.
Lexical topic Autumn
teacher speech therapist
Recommendations for parents on the lexical topic “Autumn” can be posted in the group in the corner for parents.
1. Find out if your child knows what time of year it is. Ask him questions and encourage him to answer them with complete answers. Explain how to answer questions; Tell me what word to start the answer with. For example:
— What time of year is it now? - It's autumn now. - Why do you think so? Start your answer with words on the street. — It has become cold outside, it rains often, the leaves on the trees have turned red and yellow, the grass is drying up. The children went to school.
People put on warmer clothes.
2. Help your child remember that autumn can be divided into two periods: early autumn and late autumn. Tell your child about how these periods are characterized.
• In early autumn it is still warm, the sun shines often, and it rarely rains. The leaves on the trees begin to turn red and yellow, which is why early autumn is called golden. Asters, dahlias, marigolds and other autumn flowers are still blooming in parks and gardens.
Vegetables and fruits are harvested in the fields and gardens. Lingonberries, cranberries, and mushrooms are collected in the forests. Migratory birds gather in flocks and prepare to fly south.
• In late autumn it becomes cold, the sun shines less and less and does not warm at all, cold drizzling rains often fall. The trees are shedding their last leaves. The grass and flowers dry up.
The flight of birds ends.
3. While walking with your child in the park, observe the signs of autumn and invite your child to answer your questions - organize a conversation.
-What is the sky like today? —What is the sky like in late autumn most often? — In late autumn, the sky is often overcast with clouds. —What leaves do you see on the trees? — The leaves are red, yellow, orange. —What are the trees like in late autumn? — In late autumn the trees are bare. — Pay attention to the grass under the trees. What is she like? — The grass is still green, flowers are blooming in it. — What will happen to the grass in late autumn? — In late autumn, the grass will turn yellow and dry out. - Go to the anthill.
Tell me what you see. — Ants drag blades of grass and twigs into the anthill, preparing for winter. — What happens to insects in late autumn? — Insects disappear in late autumn. - Look at the sky. Who do you see? — Migratory birds fly to warmer regions.
4. Learn a quatrain with your child that will help him remember the names of the months of autumn.
September, October, November And the birds fly away, And the children need to go to school.
5. Invite your child to divide the names of the autumn months into syllables: September-October, November-November. Remind: there are as many syllables in a word as there are vowel sounds.
6. Train your child in recognizing maple, oak, birch, rowan, poplar, aspen, and ash by the characteristic features of the trunk, branches, bark, and leaves. Talk with your child about the color of autumn leaves, using the adjectives gold, scarlet, crimson, crimson. For example: scarlet maple leaves, golden birch leaves, crimson aspen leaves, crimson rowan leaves.
7. Play the game “Autumn Leaves” with your child. You throw a ball to the child and name the tree; the child returns the ball to you, forming a phrase with two adjectives.
For example:
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Forest in autumn
I. Sokolov-Mikitov
The Russian forest is beautiful and sad in the early autumn days. Bright spots of red-yellow maples and aspens stand out against the golden background of yellowed foliage. Slowly circling in the air, light, weightless yellow leaves fall and fall from the birches. Thin silver threads of light cobwebs stretched from tree to tree. Late autumn flowers are still blooming.
The air is transparent and clean. The water in forest ditches and streams is clear. Every pebble at the bottom is visible.
Quiet in the autumn forest. Only fallen leaves rustle underfoot. Sometimes a hazel grouse whistles subtly. And this makes the silence even more audible.
It's easy to breathe in the autumn forest. And I don’t want to leave it for a long time. It’s good in the autumn flowery forest... But something sad, farewell is heard and seen in it.
November: cloudy days
Description of the nature of late autumn November (I - II week)
Autumn is becoming more silent and sadder. The time has come for late autumn - the month of November. The sun began to appear very rarely. The cumulus clouds in the sky were replaced by a dull gray film. There was no warmth left at all. There is little snow, and if it does fall, the snow cover is unstable, which makes the weather seem especially cold. Dried grass is crushed by wet snow. A thin ice forms on the water. Either the rain and snow swirl like a whirlwind, or it just rains with a fine drizzle all day long, or even the sun will come out a little and immediately hide behind the rain line.
The trees are almost completely free of leaves; here and there a single leaf is still torn off by a strong wind and carried in a watery shroud. In winter, during cold weather, the bark of trees hardens, providing protection from icy wind, ice and snow. In the forest, in one place or another, you can meet the winter guest of the bullfinch. Along with bullfinches, flocks of redpolls and crossbills arrive in November. Forest animals are already completely ready for winter, dressed in winter coats, and here the wolf cubs have grown up in the wild forest and the fox runs from tree to tree looking for mice and badgers hidden in minks for the winter. A wild boar can be heard in the dry forest, cracking its branches as it makes its way to its flock. In winter, wild boars try to stay together, preparing a place for the night from a heap of old leaves. The forest has fallen asleep, but the animals do not sleep; a difficult test of a long winter lies ahead.
November in the folk calendar
“It’s not winter yet before Kazanskaya - it’s no longer autumn from Kazanskaya”
The month of November is harsh and cold in the absence of snow. There is occasional sunshine, but it hardly gives any warmth, and if the wind catches up, it hits you with arctic cold from head to toe. November begins in the folk calendar with the main date of November 4 - the feast of the Kazan Icon of the Mother of God. It’s not the weather right now to work; now we’ll have to sit at home all November and all winter, warming ourselves with the logs we’ve stored until it’s warm enough. On Kazanskaya the puddles freeze, become covered with thin ice, and then Dmitrov’s day has arrived - November 8th has arrived. They noted that there was still autumn left before Dmitrov's day. November 10 - Nenila-Lenyanitsa, flax was prepared for buckles. Nastasya the Shepherd fell on the 11th day of the month, they thanked the shepherds for protecting the sheep all year. Zinovey - November 12 is the holiday of tit birds; bullfinches, goldfinches and many other winter guests arrive in flocks on this day.
Autumn in Russian poetry
Late autumn evokes a sad, thoughtful mood. Sergei Yesenin often wrote poems about love, and even autumn nature, a time of some sadness and despondency, could not stop him. He continued to look for his love in the fall: “Today I am in love this evening.” But nevertheless, Yesenin always praised this time of year, using a variety of phrases and comparisons: “quiet joy”, “golden foliage”, “in pinkish water”.
Golden foliage swirled in the pinkish water of the pond, like a light flock of butterflies Flies breathlessly towards a star. Today I am in love with this evening, The yellowing valley is close to my heart. The boy-wind, up to his shoulders, stripped his hem on the birch tree.
Bunin, Balmont and Pleshcheev, in their poems about autumn, primarily emphasized sadness and boredom. They wrote about the changes that have occurred in nature: leaves are falling, birds are flying south, “the sun laughs less often.” No matter how differently Russian poets view autumn, one thing can be said with certainty: for all of them it was a special time, a time of reflection.
Read: Poems by Russian poets about autumn
Autumn day in a birch grove
Author: Turgenev Ivan Sergeevich
I was sitting in a birch grove in the fall, around mid-September. From the very morning there was a light rain, replaced at times by warm sunshine; the weather was changeable. The sky was either covered with loose white clouds, then suddenly cleared in places for a moment, and then, from behind the parted clouds, azure appeared, clear and gentle...
I sat and looked around and listened. The leaves rustled slightly above my head; by their noise alone one could find out what time of year it was then. It was not the cheerful, laughing trembling of spring, not the soft whispering, not the long chatter of summer, not the timid and cold babbling of late autumn, but barely audible, drowsy chatter. A weak wind pulled slightly over the tops. The interior of the grove, wet from the rain, was constantly changing, depending on whether the sun was shining or covered with clouds; She then lit up all over, as if suddenly everything in her was smiling... then suddenly everything around her turned slightly blue again: the bright colors instantly faded... and stealthily, slyly, the smallest rain began to fall and whisper through the forest.
The foliage on the birches was still almost all green, although noticeably paler; only here and there stood one young girl, all red or all gold...
Not a single bird was heard: everyone took refuge and fell silent; only occasionally did the mocking voice of a tit ring like a steel bell.
***
An autumn, clear, slightly cold, frosty day in the morning, when a birch tree, like a fairy-tale tree, all golden, is beautifully drawn in the pale blue sky, when the low sun no longer warms, but shines brighter than a summer one, a small aspen grove sparkles through and through, as if it’s fun and easy to stand naked, the frost is still white at the bottom of the valleys, and the fresh wind gently stirs and drives away the fallen, warped leaves - when blue waves joyfully rush along the river, quietly lifting up the scattered geese and ducks; in the distance the mill knocks, half-hidden by willows, and, dappling the bright air, pigeons quickly circle above it...
***
Author: Kuprin Alexander Ivanovich
... By the beginning of September the weather suddenly changed dramatically and completely unexpectedly. Quiet and cloudless days immediately arrived, so clear, sunny and warm, which were not even in July. On the dried, compressed fields, on their prickly yellow stubble, an autumn cobweb glistened with a mica sheen. The calmed trees silently and obediently dropped their yellow leaves.
Late fall
Korolenko Vladimir Galaktionovich
Late autumn is coming. The fruit has become heavy; he breaks down and falls to the ground. He dies, but the seed lives in him, and in this seed lives in “possibility” the entire future plant, with its future luxurious foliage and its new fruit. The seed will fall to the ground; and the cold sun is already rising low above the earth, a cold wind is running, cold clouds are rushing... Not only passion, but life itself freezes quietly, imperceptibly... The earth increasingly appears from under the greenery with its blackness, cold tones dominate the sky... And then it comes the day when millions of snowflakes fall on this resigned and quiet, as if widowed earth, and it all becomes smooth, monochromatic and white... White is the color of cold snow, the color of the highest clouds that float in the unattainable cold of the celestial heights - the color of majestic and barren mountain peaks...
Antonov apples
Bunin Ivan Alekseevich
I remember an early fine autumn. August had warm rains at the right time, in the middle of the month. I remember an early, fresh, quiet morning... I remember a large, all golden, dried up and thinning garden, I remember maple alleys, the subtle aroma of fallen leaves and the smell of Antonov apples, the smell of honey and autumn freshness. The air is so clean, it’s as if there is none at all. There is a strong smell of apples everywhere.
By night it becomes very cold and dewy. Having inhaled the rye aroma of new straw and chaff on the threshing floor, you cheerfully walk home for dinner past the garden rampart. Voices in the village or the creaking of gates can be heard unusually clearly in the chilly dawn. It's getting dark. And here’s another smell: there’s a fire in the garden and there’s a strong wafting of fragrant smoke from cherry branches. In the darkness, in the depths of the garden, there is a fabulous picture: as if in a corner of hell, a crimson flame, surrounded by darkness, is burning near a hut...
“Vigorous Antonovka - for a fun year.” Village affairs are good if the Antonovka crop is bad: that means the grain is bad too... I remember a fruitful year.
At early dawn, when the roosters were still crowing, you would open a window into a cool garden filled with a purple fog, through which the morning sun shines brightly here and there... You would run to wash your face at the pond. Almost all the small foliage has flown off the coastal vines, and the branches show through in the turquoise sky. The water under the vines became clear, icy, and seemingly heavy. It instantly drives away nighttime laziness.
You enter the house and first of all you will hear the smell of apples, and then others.
Since the end of September, our gardens and threshing floors have been empty, and the weather, as usual, has changed dramatically. The wind tore and tore the trees for days on end, and the rains watered them from morning to night.
The liquid blue sky shone coldly and brightly in the north above the heavy lead clouds, and from behind these clouds the ridges of snowy mountains-clouds slowly floated out, the window into the blue sky closed, and the garden became deserted and boring, and the rain began to fall again... at first quietly , carefully, then more and more thickly and finally turned into a downpour with storm and darkness. A long, anxious night was coming...
From such a scolding the garden emerged completely naked, covered with wet leaves and somehow quiet and resigned. But how beautiful it was when clear weather came again, clear and cold days of early October, the farewell holiday of autumn! The preserved foliage will now hang on the trees until the first frost. The black garden will shine through the cold turquoise sky and dutifully wait for winter, warming itself in the sunshine. And the fields are already turning sharply black with arable land and brightly green with bushy winter crops...
You wake up and lie in bed for a long time. There is silence throughout the whole house. Ahead lies a whole day of peace in the already silent winter estate. Slowly get dressed, wander around the garden, find a cold and wet apple accidentally forgotten in the wet leaves, and for some reason it will seem unusually tasty, not at all like the others.
Games at home for children and more...
These short stories about autumn will be interesting for children of primary school age.
Autumn morning Mikhail Prishvin
Leaf after leaf falls from the linden tree onto the roof, some leaves like a parachute, some like a moth, some like a cog. Meanwhile, little by little the day opens its eyes, and the wind from the roof lifts all the leaves and they fly to the river somewhere along with migratory birds.
Here you stand on the shore, alone, put your palm to your heart, and with your soul, along with the birds and leaves, you fly somewhere.
And it feels so sad, and so good, and you whisper quietly:
- Fly, fly!
The day takes so long to wake up that by the time the sun comes out it's already lunchtime. We rejoice at a nice warm day, but we are no longer waiting for the flying cobwebs of Indian summer: everyone has scattered, and the cranes are about to fly, and there are geese, rooks - and it will all be over.
Bee and fly Konstantin Ushinsky
In late autumn it turned out to be a glorious day, the kind that is rare in spring: the lead clouds dissipated, the wind calmed down, the sun came out and looked so tenderly, as if it was saying goodbye to the faded plants. Summoned from the hives by the light and warmth, the shaggy bees, buzzing merrily, flew from grass to grass, not for honey (there was nowhere to get it), but just to have fun and spread their wings.
- How stupid you are with your fun! - the fly told them, which immediately sat on the grass, saddened and with its nose down. - Don’t you know that the sun is only for a minute and that, probably, today the wind, rain, cold will begin, and we will all have to perish.
- Zoom-zoom-zoom! Why disappear? — the cheerful bees answered the fly. - We'll have fun while the sun shines; and when bad weather comes, we’ll hide in our warm hive, where we’ve stored a lot of honey over the summer.
*****
But this story doesn’t fit into the short category at all, but I couldn’t help but share it. Read it with your children. It miraculously reflects all the signs and features of autumn in Rus'.
Autumn Konstantin Ushinsky
Already from July 9th, the day begins to gradually decrease and the night increases. On September 11th, day is equal to night again (according to the new style, the day of the autumnal equinox is September 23rd). This is the day of the autumnal equinox and the beginning of autumn. From this date, the night increases and by December 12 (according to the new style, the day of the winter solstice is December 22) it becomes three times longer than the day. At this time, the sun barely appears in the sky and is in a hurry to hide; at 9 o'clock in the morning it is still dark; At 3 o'clock after lunch you need to light the candles.
The clouds almost never leave the sky, and these are no longer beautiful summer clouds, piling up like silver mountains or running high across the sky like silvery lambs: the sky is increasingly covered with an even veil of leaden color. From the end of August the air begins to get colder. Freshness is noticeable especially in the mornings, and in September there are sometimes light frosts. Waking up in the morning, you see how the grass or the roof of the neighboring house has turned white. A little more and the puddles, which are quite everywhere in the fall, begin to freeze at night.
The fine autumn rains are completely different from the summer thunderstorms: they fall incessantly, and the ground no longer dries out quickly, as it did in the summer. The wind blows tirelessly, carrying the ripened seeds of trees and herbs far and giving the boy the pleasure of flying a paper kite high.
The leaves on the trees begin to turn yellow here and there at the end of August; in September you notice how on a birch tree, still green, completely yellow, golden branches appear here and there: as if the dead hand of autumn grabbed and crushed them in passing. The birch tree is the first to bloom, and it is the first to begin to turn yellow. Every day there are more and more yellow leaves. Another two or three days - and the trembling aspen stands all red, crimson, and golden. But the gusty autumn wind also tears away this last decoration: spinning light, dried leaves in the air, covering the wet ground with them.
The fields are gradually becoming empty, even the heaps of grain have already been brought in, and only tall haystacks, surrounded by fences, remain to winter in the meadows. The flowers have disappeared, and the yellowed, overripe grass, where it was left, bends to the ground and seems to be asking for snow. Only the winter leaves rise like smooth, green velvet. But these young, belated shoots are destined to die soon. But the roots of the bread will remain unharmed under the snow and in the spring they will again look out into the light of God with green stalks.
Everything stalls, becomes empty, darkens, loses the bright colors of summer and takes on the monotonous, dirty, gray look of autumn. At this time, nature looks like a tired, hard-working person who is overcome by sleep. A few more days will pass, and she, covered with a fluffy white blanket, will fall asleep for the whole winter.
The migrating birds, one after another, gather for a long journey. The swallows are the first to raise the alarm, and at the end of August they suddenly disappear; they feel the approach of autumn, and the early departure of these birds predicts an early winter. Then long lines of cranes, ducks and geese will stretch from north to south. With a cry, sometimes in a long chain, sometimes at an angle, with the front line in front, the summer guests fly away from us. Forests are thinning, becoming quiet and empty; only a heavy, wet crow croaks, sitting on a bare branch, and jackdaws rush around in flocks with desperate cries.
Now the trees are all bare, only its red clusters hang on the mountain ash, waiting for the frost. Empty, deaf, both in the fields and in the forests. The earth, blackened, dirty, soaked in rain, looks sad under the leaden sky: if only the snow would quickly cover its unpleasant nakedness. Snow also appears; but he cannot hold on for long and, sometimes remaining for several hours, disappears again.
The peasant's work significantly decreases in the fall; but still he does not remain idle. At the beginning of autumn it is necessary to plow and harrow and sow winter fields; then we need to transport grain from the fields to the barns; carts hidden under heavy sheaves creak along all the paths. Having brought the bread, you need to dry it in a barn and then thresh it. The blows of threshing flails can be heard on the threshing floors in the fall from early morning until late evening. Having threshed the grain, the peasant puts it in bags and hurries to the mill. If he is not threshing and not sitting at the mill, waiting in line, then, probably, with an ax in his hands, he is straightening something near his hut. The women soak and then crush the hemp, comb the flax and prepare themselves for the long winter evenings.
But still, in the fall there is much less work, compared to summer, and the peasant is in a hurry to have fun. There are many holidays in the fall: peasant weddings are always held at this time of year, when there is less to do and there is a lot of good stuff. Beer is brewed everywhere, and cheerful, partying crowds visit from hut to hut, from village to village. The little man worked hard over the summer: he needs to relax and have fun.
Autumn is also noticeable in cities. You can’t look outside without an umbrella, overcoat and galoshes. A fine, cold rain is drizzling from above; Water drips from wet shiny roofs. The foot slides on the wet stone. Puddles and dirt everywhere. The wet fences look sad. Jackdaws rush around in flocks and, pushing one another, sit on crosses. Windows are being washed everywhere and double glazing is being installed. The rooms become dark and deaf. There is no street noise; and in the evenings the wind whistles and howls in the chimneys, causing melancholy. But in the fall, theaters, concerts and meetings begin in capitals and big cities. Only all this goes on somewhat sluggishly, until the cheerful snow turns white on the streets and the sled road begins to fall. Then everything will wake up and move. A bright light will crackle in the stove, smoke will rise in columns from the chimneys, the snow will sparkle with diamond sparkles, a horse will run briskly, the sleigh will creak, the old man’s face will also flush: Russian winter life will roll merrily!
Dictionary of native nature
Paustovsky Konstantin Georgievich
It is impossible to list the signs of all seasons. Therefore, I skip summer and move on to autumn, to its first days, when “September” already begins.
The earth is withering, but the “Indian summer” is still ahead with its last bright, but already cold, like the shine of mica, radiance of the sun. From the thick blue of the sky, washed with cool air. With a flying web (“the yarn of the Virgin Mary,” as earnest old women still call it in some places) and a fallen, withered leaf covering the empty waters. Birch groves stand like crowds of beautiful girls in shawls embroidered with gold leaf. “A sad time is a charm of the eyes.”
Then - bad weather, heavy rains, the icy northern wind "Siverko" plowing through the leaden waters, cold, coldness, pitch-black nights, icy dew, dark dawns.
So everything goes on until the first frost grabs and binds the earth, the first powder falls and the first path is established. And there is already winter with blizzards, blizzards, drifting snow, snowfall, gray frosts, poles in the fields, creaking cuts on the sledges, a gray, snowy sky...
***
Often in the fall I closely watched the falling leaves in order to catch that imperceptible split second when the leaf separates from the branch and begins to fall to the ground, but for a long time I was not able to do this. I've read in old books about the sound of falling leaves, but I've never heard that sound. If the leaves rustled, it was only on the ground, under a person’s feet. The rustle of leaves in the air seemed as implausible to me as stories about hearing grass sprouting in the spring.
I was, of course, wrong. Time was needed so that the ear, dulled by the grinding of city streets, could rest and catch the very pure and precise sounds of the autumn land.
One late evening I went out into the garden to the well. I placed a dim kerosene bat lantern on the frame and took out some water. Leaves were floating in the bucket. They were everywhere. There was no way to get rid of them anywhere. Brown bread from the bakery was brought with wet leaves stuck to it. The wind threw handfuls of leaves on the table, on the bed, on the floor. on books, and it was difficult to groom along the paths of tallow: you had to walk on the leaves, as if through deep snow. We found leaves in the pockets of our raincoats, in our caps, in our hair—everywhere. We slept on them and were thoroughly saturated with their smell.
There are autumn nights, deaf and silent, when there is no wind over the black wooded edge and only the watchman's beater can be heard from the village outskirts.
It was such a night. The lantern illuminated the well, the old maple under the fence and the nasturtium bush tousled by the wind in the yellowed flowerbed.
I looked at the maple and saw how a red leaf carefully and slowly separated from the branch, shuddered, stopped in the air for an instant and began to fall obliquely at my feet, slightly rustling and swaying. For the first time I heard the rustling of a falling leaf - a vague sound, like a child’s whisper.
November: welcoming winter
Description of the nature of late autumn November (III - IV week)
Winter is getting closer and closer. The clouds are solid and gray, there is a foggy haze in the air, and in the morning the puddles are covered with crusts of ice. By the end of the month, the ponds freeze, covering them with completely flat ice. The average air temperature in October is 2-3 degrees below zero Celsius. Outwardly, November is a gray and sad month; only the last week of November can turn into white, freshly fallen snow, which will finally settle firmly on the soil and tree branches.
The water temperature is decreasing and many fish are already burrowing into the mud; catfish, crucian carp, and carp spend the winter in hibernation. During the winter, many floating fish remain in the rivers: perch, ruffe, and pike. By the end of the month, the thermometer has already dropped firmly below zero; all that remains is for snow to fall before winter begins.
And then, suddenly, as they say, snow falls on your head. In a matter of moments, it covers fields, river banks and trees with a white blanket. Everything is shrouded in snow, as if it is becoming warmer and happier from the white flakes slowly falling from the sky. Winter comes slowly and imprisons nature in icy shackles.
The second half of November in the folk calendar
"Fedor Studit - chills the earth"
The people greet winter with fun and holidays - November 14 is Kuzma-Demyan Day, also called Kuzminki. Now the rays of the sun are not able to warm. And from the very next day - November 15, Akundin Day, they began to work around the house. The girls wove, spun, and embroidered, and the men ground bread. By November 19th, winter froze up and bound the ponds and rivers with ice, but already on November 20th - Fedot, they talked about it - on this day the ice rises upon the ice.
Winter inhaled the cold, and suddenly, as if it had stumbled, took a step back - the Mikhailovsky thaw thundered on November 21. The snow that has managed to gain a foothold on the ground is melting, and the roads are dirty and slippery. But this is not for long, Matryona arrives on November 22 and winter shows its strength with might and main, frosts set in. November 25 Fyodor Studit. Those in the know said that if it rains on this day, then there will be a long thaw with mud snow underfoot, and if the snow lies firmly, then the winter will be long and snowy. By November 29, winter is already firmly on its feet, and the time for snowstorms and intensifying frosts is approaching. Winter enters Rus' on a sleigh.
Autumn in Russian painting
The slight sadness of late autumn can be seen in Alexander Stepanov’s landscape “Autumn”: colorless sky, bare branches, faded withered grass. The proximity of winter, loneliness and inevitability - these are the feelings that the work evokes.
(Painting by Efim Volkov “Swamp in Autumn”)
In Efim Volkov’s landscape “Swamp in Autumn” the sky is also an indeterminate gray color, but the mood is completely different. Maybe because there are also images of people and human habitation, which gives life to the picture, makes it life-affirming.
See: Paintings by Russian artists about autumn
My house
Paustovsky Konstantin Georgievich
It’s especially good in the gazebo on quiet autumn nights, when the slow, sheer rain is making a low noise in the sala.
The cool air barely moves the candle tongue. Corner shadows from grape leaves lie on the ceiling of the gazebo. A moth, looking like a lump of gray raw silk, lands on an open book and leaves the finest shiny dust on the page. It smells like rain - a gentle and at the same time pungent smell of moisture, damp garden paths.
At dawn I wake up. The fog rustles in the garden. Leaves are falling in the fog. I pull a bucket of water out of the well. A frog jumps out of the bucket. I douse myself with well water and listen to the shepherd’s horn - he is still singing far away, right at the outskirts.
It's getting light. I take the oars and go to the river. I'm sailing in the fog. The East is turning pink. The smell of smoke from rural stoves can no longer be heard. All that remains is the silence of the water and the thickets of centuries-old willows.
Ahead is a deserted September day. Ahead - lost in this huge world of fragrant foliage, grass, autumn withering, calm waters, clouds, low sky. And I always feel this confusion as happiness.
