英语春天的作文

时间：2026-03-23 00:01:02 英语作文

英语春天的作文常用4篇

　　在平平淡淡的学习、工作、生活中，大家总少不了接触作文吧，借助作文人们可以实现文化交流的目的。那么问题来了，到底应如何写一篇优秀的作文呢？以下是小编为大家整理的英语春天的作文4篇，仅供参考，欢迎大家阅读。

英语春天的作文常用4篇

英语春天的作文篇1

　　春天来啦！柳树发芽了，长长的柳条随风摆动着轻盈的腰肢，欢快的跳起了“华尔兹”舞。美丽的'桃花开了，露出了粉嘟嘟的笑脸，它们的外表吸引了蜜蜂来采花酿蜜。小草也从地下探出头来一个劲儿往上窜，一片片草地像铺了一块块绿色的地毯。

　　Spring is coming! Willow sprouted, long wicker swaying with the wind light waist, happy to dance "waltz". The beautiful peach blossom is blooming, showing its pink smiling face. Their appearance attracts bees to gather flowers and make honey. The grass also came out of the ground and started up. The grass seemed to be covered with green carpet.

　　可爱的小燕子从南方飞回来了，它们高兴地叫着：“春天来啦！春天来啦！”小鸭子在池塘里快活地游来游去，真是“春江水暖鸭先知呀！”小蝌蚪们也摇摆着尾巴，争先恐后地正在找妈妈呢！

　　The lovely little swallow flew back from the south. They cried happily, "spring is coming!"! Spring is coming! " The little duck is swimming happily in the pond. It's really "the prophet of warm duck in spring river!" Tadpoles are also wagging their tails, scrambling to find their mother!

　　小朋友们出来春游啦！他们有的在跑着跳着放风筝，有的在唱歌跳舞，还有的在画春天的美景。瞧！他们多快乐呀！

　　Children are out for spring outing! Some of them are running and flying kites, some are singing and dancing, and some are painting the beautiful scenery of spring. Look! How happy they are!

　　春天来到啦！万物复苏了，到处都充满了鸟语花香！一片片生机勃勃的景象尽收眼底。

　　Spring is coming! Everything is revived, everywhere is full of birds and flowers! There was a panoramic view of the scene.

英语春天的作文篇2

　　星期天上午，我怀着愉快的心情和妈妈一起去人民公园寻找春天的足迹。

　　Sunday morning, I went to the people's park with my mother in a happy mood to find the footprints of spring.

　　进了公园大门，我看见一片美丽的蝴蝶花，有红的、黄的和蓝的三种颜色，我轻轻地摸了摸花瓣，感觉软软的，滑滑的，几只小蜜蜂在花丛中翩翩起舞，仿佛是在与美丽的蝴蝶花嬉戏。

　　Entering the gate of the park, I saw a beautiful butterfly flower, which has three colors of red, yellow and blue. I touched the petals gently, feeling soft and slippery. Several small bees danced in the flowers, as if they were playing with the beautiful butterfly flower.

　　地上嫩绿的小草使劲地从土里钻出身子，享受着甘甜的雨露、和煦的`阳光，呼吸着清新的空气，好像给大地迅速铺上了一层嫩绿的毛毯。

　　The green grass on the ground comes out of the soil vigorously, enjoying the sweet rain and sunshine, breathing the fresh air, as if it has quickly spread a green blanket on the earth.

　　墙边几棵婀娜多姿的桃树，曲曲折折的枝条上悄悄地长出了一簇簇紫红色的花骨朵儿，像一群群既调皮可爱，又害羞脸红的小姑娘。

　　A few graceful peach trees beside the wall quietly grow clusters of purplish red flower bones on the twists and turns of the branches, like groups of girls who are naughty, cute and shy.

　　路边一片梨树也开出了雪白的花朵，在春风的吹动下，梨花竟跳起舞来，花瓣象雨一样缓缓飘下，落到我的头上，顿时一股清香扑鼻而来，沁人心脾。

　　A pear tree on the road also produced snow-white flowers. Under the spring wind, the pear flowers danced, and the petals slowly floated down like rain, falling on my head. Suddenly, a fresh fragrance came to me, refreshing.

　　公园里的小河在阳光照射下静静地流淌着，一阵微风吹来，河面散射出点点柔美的星光，空中的几只小鸟似乎也被星光所吸引，叽叽喳喳地议论个不停。

　　The river in the park flows quietly in the sunshine. A breeze blows. The river scatters a little bit of soft starlight. A few birds in the air seem to be attracted by the starlight and chatter incessantly.

　　感受着公园里的一草一木，一景一色，我忽然发现自己找到了春的足迹，她的颜色是五彩纷呈的，她的气息是清新宜人的，她的声音是欢快动听的，她的感觉是柔软甜润的，整个公园被春姑娘的足迹点缀成了童话般的世界。

　　Feeling the grass, trees and scenery in the park, I suddenly found that I found the footprints of spring. Her color is colorful, her breath is fresh and pleasant, her voice is pleasant, her feeling is soft and sweet. The whole park is dotted with the footprints of spring girls into a fairy tale world.

英语春天的作文篇3

　　Suddenly, winter winter, the weather began to gradually pick up, the climate became wetter, giving a moist warm feeling. Spring has come back at last, and its arrival gives nature a new sight. Everywhere is full of vitality, full of vitality.

　　In the spring, it is the season of flying kites. I'm going to fly a kite with a couple of guys today. We were excited and shouting and shouting, running and jumping, happy like a happy little bird, and the playground suddenly became lively. When you see people running and putting lines on the other side, the colorful kites slowly rise, rise and rise, and show different forms in the blue sky. Some like the large aircraft, flying in the sky; some like goldfish, free to travel in the blue sea; some like butterflies, dancing in the pear; some like the eagle, in the blue sky fluttering strong wings and fly to the distant ahead & … … ah, the blue sky a riot of colours, like a kaleidoscope, like a beautiful paradise.

　　After the burst of spring rain, a clump of green grass stretches. A small blue flower, small white flowers and small red … … like a shy little girl. The willow wobble the newly grown twigs. The peach trees open the pink smiling face to greet the beautiful spring. Spring after a winter sleeping trees are covered with green gauze, green shoots and out of the branches, with the new desire and vision for the future, in the breeze!

　　Ah! The spring, like a picture, paper, the pen, painted with a vigorous color, the green belt in the wilderness, mountains; the brilliant colors, with flowers, the blue; covered on the sea, the waters of the lake with the light green.

　　I love spring, like a traveler, wandering the Quartet, sowing the seeds of spring spring, the spread of news, wake a hibernating animal, over the river ice and the morning, warm feeling, the earth melted snow.

英语春天的作文篇4

　　A Promise of Spring

　　Early in the spring, about a month before my grandpa's stroke, I began walking for an hour every afternoon. Some days I would walk four blocks south to see Grandma and Grandpa. At eighty-six, Grandpa was still quite a gardener, so I always watched for his earliest blooms and each new wave of spring flowers.

　　I was especially interested in flowers that year because I was planning to landscape my own yard and I was eager to get Grandpa's advice. I thought I knew pretty much what I wanted — a yard full of bushes and plants that would bloom from May till November.

　　It was right after the first rush of purple violets in the lawns and the sudden blaze of forsythia that spring that Grandpa had a stroke. It left him without speech and with no movement on his left side. The whole family rallied to Grandpa. We all spent many hours by his side. Some days his eyes were eloquent — laughing at our reported mishaps, listening alertly, revealing painful awareness of his inability to care for himself. There were days, too, when he slept most of the time, overcome with the weight of his approaching death.

　　As the months passed, I watched the growing earth with Grandpa's eyes. Each time I was with him, I gave him a garden report. He listened, gripping my hand with the sure strength and calm he had always had. But he could not answer my questions. The new flowers would blaze, peak, fade, and die before I knew their names.

　　Grandpa's illness held him through the spring and on, week by week, through summer. I began spending hours at the local nursery, studying and choosing seeds and plants. It gave me special joy to buy plants I had seen in Grandpa's garden and give them humble starts in my own garden. I discovered Sweet William, which I had admired for years in Grandpa's garden without knowing its name. And I planted it in his honor.

　　As I waited and watched in the garden and by Grandpa's side, some quiet truths emerged. I realized that Grandpa loved flowers that were always bloom; he kept a full bed of roses in his garden. But I noticed that Grandpa left plenty of room for the brief highlights. Not every nook of his garden was constantly in bloom. There was always a treasured surprise tucked somewhere.

　　I came to see, too, that Grandpa's garden mirrored his life. He was a hard worker who understood the law of the harvest. But along with his hard work, Grandpa knew how to enjoy each season, each change. We often teased him about his life history. He had written two paragraphs summarizing fifty years of work, and a full nine pages about every trip and vacation he'd ever taken.

　　In July, Grandpa worsened. One hot afternoon arrived when no one else was at his bedside. He was glad to have me there, and reached out his hand to pull me close.

　　I told Grandpa what I had learned — that few flowers last from April to November. Some of the most beautiful bloom for only a month at most. To really enjoy a garden, you have to plant corners and drifts and rows of flowers that will bloom and grace the garden, each in its own season.

　　His eyes listened to every word. Then, another discovery: "If I want a garden like yours, Grandpa, I'm going to have to work." His grin laughed at me, and his eyes teased me.

　　"Grandpa, in your life right now the chrysanthemums are in bloom. Chrysanthemums and roses." Tears clouded both our eyes. Neither of us feared this last flower of fall, but the wait for spring seems longest in November. We knew how much we would miss each other.

　　Sitting there, I suddenly felt that the best gift I could give Grandpa would be to give voice to the testimony inside both of us. He had never spoken of his testimony to me, but it was such a part of his life that I had never questioned if Grandpa knew. I knew he knew.

　　"Grandpa," I began — and his grip tightened as if he knew what I was going to say — "I want you to know that I have a testimony. I know the Savior lives. I bear witness to you that Joseph Smith is a prophet. I love the Restoration and joy in it." The steadiness in Grandpa's eyes told how much he felt it too. "I bear witness that President Kimball is a prophet. I know the Book of Mormon is true, Grandpa. Every part of me bears this witness."

　　"Grandpa," I added quietly, "I know our Father in Heaven loves you." Unbidden, unexpected, the Spirit bore comforting, poignant testimony to me of our Father's love for my humble, quiet Grandpa.

　　A tangible sense of Heavenly Father's compassionate awareness of Grandpa's suffering surrounded us and held us. It was so personal and powerful that no words were left to me — only tears of gratitude and humility, tears of comfort.

　　Grandpa and I wept together.

　　It was the end of August when Grandpa died, the end of summer. As we were choosing flowers from the florist for Grandpa's funeral, I slipped away to Grandpa's garden and walked with my memories of columbine and Sweet William. Only the tall lavender and white phlox were in bloom now, and some baby's breath in another corner.

　　On impulse, I cut the prettiest strands of phlox and baby's breath and made one more arrangement for the funeral. When they saw it, friends and family all smiled to see Grandpa's flowers there. We all felt how much Grandpa would have liked that.

　　The October after Grandpa's death, I planted tulip and daffodil bulbs, snowdrops, crocuses, and bluebells. Each bulb was a comfort to me, a love sent to Grandpa, a promise of spring.

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