Составьте рассказ о зиме в России на английском языке В

Winter in Russia feels like stepping into a quieter, brighter world. The first real snow usually arrives at night, and by morning the streets are soft and white, as if someone pressed the mute button on the city. We dress in layers—wool socks, a thick sweater, a fur-lined hood—because the cold is not just a temperature; it’s a presence you greet at the door.

Days start blue and pale, the sun low like a shy guest. On weekends families go to the forest. The birch trees stand thin and silver, and every step squeaks on the packed snow. We make a small fire, warm tea in a metal thermos, and eat sweet pancakes that taste like summer memories. Children pull each other on sleds and argue about who will be the fastest, then race down a hill until their cheeks shine like apples.

In the city, winter has its own music: the scrape of skates on the ice rink in the square, the steady rhythm of people brushing snow from their boots before entering a shop, the soft clink of cups in cafés where windows fog and conversations grow longer. At home, the radiator hisses, and the air smells of tangerines and pine. On New Year’s Eve, lights fill balconies and courtyards, and fireworks bloom above the rooftops, coloring the snow for a brief, bright moment.

Yes, winter is long. There are mornings when the frost paints lace on the glass and the wind bites your eyelashes. But there’s a special energy in it: the clear silence after a snowfall, the comfort of hot soup waiting indoors, and the way stars seem closer on a crisp, dark night. In Russia, winter is not only a season—it’s a way of living together, slower and warmer than it looks from the outside.