What's that crawling around in the green grass? Bunnies. They are only two days old, but they are already great: they look in all directions, twirl their mustaches; They are waiting for their mother hare to feed them milk.
Vesna-Krasna decided to finish her picture with these kids. Let the Sun look at her and rejoice at how everything comes to life around her; let him judge: is it possible to paint a picture even more fun, even more elegant?
The Sun peeked out from behind a blue cloud, looked out and admired it. No matter how much it walked across the sky, no matter how many marvelous things it saw, it had never seen such beauty. It looks at the picture of Spring and cannot take its eyes off. Looks a month, then another...
The flowers of bird cherry, apple and pear trees have long since faded and fallen into white snow; The grass has long been green in place of the transparent spring puddle; in the birds' nests, chicks hatched and became covered with feathers; tiny bunnies have already become young, nimble hares...
Even Spring itself cannot recognize its own picture. Something new, unfamiliar appeared in her. This means that the time has come to give up his place to another artist-painter.
“I’ll see if this artist will paint a picture more joyful, more fun than mine,” says Vesna. “And then I’ll fly to the north, they won’t wait for me there.”
Hot Summer has begun its work. He thinks, wonders what kind of picture he should draw, and decides: “I’ll take simpler colors, but richer ones.” And so it did.
Summer painted the entire forest with lush greenery; meadows and mountains were covered with green paint. Only for rivers and lakes I took a transparent, bright blue one.
“Let,” thinks Summer, “let everything in my picture be ripe, ripe.” It looked into the old orchard, hung rosy apples and pears on the trees, and tried so hard that even the branches could not stand it - they bent down to the very ground.
In the forest, under the trees and under the bushes, Summer planted many, many different mushrooms. Each fungus has its own place.
“Let the boletuses with gray roots and brown caps grow in the light birch forest,” Summer decided, “and let the boletuses grow in the aspen forest.” Summer dressed them up in orange and yellow hats.
Quite a few more different mushrooms appeared in the shady forest: russula, boletus, boletus... And in the clearings, as if flowers were blooming, fly agaric mushrooms opened their bright red umbrellas.
But the best mushroom turned out to be the boletus mushroom. He grew up in a pine forest, crawled out of the wet green moss, stood up a little, shook off the withered yellow needles, and suddenly became so handsome - to the envy of all the mushrooms, surprisingly.
Around him there are green bushes of lingonberries and blueberries growing, all of them are covered with berries. Lingonberries have red berries, while blueberries have dark blue, almost black.
The bushes were surrounded by boletus mushroom. And he stands among them, so stocky, strong, a real forest hero.
Hot Summer looks at her painting, looks and thinks: “There aren’t enough berries in my forest. We need to add more." It took over the entire slope of the forest ravine and decorated it with dense raspberry bushes.
The bushes are turning green cheerfully. And how good the berries are on them - large, sweet, just begging to be eaten! A mother bear and her cubs climbed into a raspberry patch and couldn’t tear themselves away from the delicious berries.
Good in the forest! It seems that I would never leave here.
But the artist Hot Summer is in a hurry, he needs to go everywhere.
Summer looked into the field; covered the ears of wheat and rye with heavy gilding. The fields of grain became yellow and golden; so they bend like ripe ears in the wind.
And in the lush meadows, Summer started a cheerful haymaking: wildflowers lay down in the fragrant heaps of hay, hid their multi-colored heads in a green heap of grass and dozed off there.
Green haystacks in the meadows; golden fields of grain; rosy apples, pears in the garden... A good picture of a Hot Summer! You can show it to the Red Sun too.
The Sun peeked out from behind a gray cloud, looked and admired. Everything is bright and joyful. She would never take her eyes off the lush greenery of the dark forest, from the golden fields, from the blue surface of rivers and lakes. He admires the Sun for a month, then another. Well drawn!
Only here’s the problem: day by day the foliage on the bushes and trees fades, withers, and the whole picture of the Hot Summer becomes not so juicy. Apparently, the time has come to give up his place to another artist. How will he cope with his work? It will not be easy for him to paint a picture better than those that Winter-Winter, Spring-Red and Hot Summer have already shown the Sun.
But Autumn does not even think of losing heart.
For her work, she took the brightest colors and first of all went into the forest with them. There she began to work on her painting.
Autumn covered the birches and maples with lemon yellow. And the aspen leaves turned red, like ripe apples. The aspen tree became all bright red, all burning like fire.
Autumn wandered into a forest clearing. There is a hundred-year-old oak tree standing in the middle of it, shaking its thick leaves.
“The mighty hero must be dressed in forged copper armor.” So she gave the old man a ceremony.
He looks, and not far away, at the edge of the clearing, thick, spreading linden trees have gathered in a circle, their branches lowered down. “A heavy robe of gold brocade suits them best.”
