英语春天的作文

时间：2026-04-30 22:05:13 英语作文

实用的英语春天的作文(经典)

　　在现实生活或工作学习中，大家都不可避免地要接触到作文吧，作文是人们把记忆中所存储的有关知识、经验和思想用书面形式表达出来的记叙方式。你知道作文怎样写才规范吗？以下是小编精心整理的英语春天的作文6篇，欢迎大家分享。

实用的英语春天的作文(经典)

英语春天的作文篇1

　　In march in the wet air spring, I always imagine a picture: garden outside on the grass with small yellow and purple, the middle of the courtyard of the cherry tree tree tree full of flowers to bloom in a warm southerly breeze slowly, in the replacement of the four seasons of green fruit with wide bilge painful expression, from shiny branches grow out of it. Six in the middle of the night of spring, the old cat can't sleep all night, under the tree stamping, swan couples, bark, and the ducks who teams in pairs to fly to the moon.

　　And I always wake up in the middle of the night, look at the moon rose down-stairs branches long painting on the pebbles, which are covered with buds of green, please.

　　In the middle of the night I heard the spring is static. Lingering in the ear, there is a special sound short, and want to pour a spoonful of sugar into the tea when the sound, it should be a light rain slapping on to the leaves on the trees. They are reminiscent of the day the road leading to the village.

　　"Sand sand sand......", in the darkness, forming a slow rhythm.

　　Slow is composed in B minor. Followed the path of the night and smooth.

　　On the grass in the spring, filled with fluffy dandelion, with a light yellow colour and lustre, clusters into a cluster to hide.

　　Like the raindrops in the air.

　　Don't disturb them. Heavy sleep sleep. Gentle wind rustled gradually forming the flowers. In the gentle spring.

　　"But you and I as a life hasn't been crying, and gets a long sleep time."

　　It's just my fantasy. Can you see?

　　"-- - I can see it."

　　在三月春天濡湿的空气里，我总想象着一幅画面：花园外面的草地上开满了黄色和紫色的小花，院子当中的樱桃树树上满树的花都从熏风里缓慢地绽放，在四季的更替里青色的果子带着张大的胀痛表情，从发亮的枝条里长出来。春天的深夜六，老猫整夜不能安睡，在树下跺着步，天鹅夫妇发出叫声，而野鸭子们成队成对地向月亮飞去。

　　而我总在深夜醒来，看月亮把楼下的蔷薇的枝条长长地画在卵石上，那上面长满了青请的花苞。

　　我在深夜里，听见了春天的静。萦绕在耳边的，有一种声音特别短促，想一勺糖倒进红茶时发出的声音一样，那应该是小雨拍打到树上的叶子的声音。它们让人想起了白天那些引领着道路通向小区的梧桐树。

　　“沙……沙……沙”，在夜幕里，形成一段缓慢的旋律。

　　缓慢是沉稳的B小调。循着夜的轨迹滑着。

　　在春天的草地上，长满了毛茸茸的`蒲公英，带着一种淡黄的色泽，成簇成簇拥挤地隐藏着。

　　像是空气中的雨滴。

　　没有惊扰。沉沉眠眠。温柔的风拂过逐渐成形的花海。在温和的春里。

　　“而你我如同尚未啼哭的生命，时光切不断绵长的沉眠。”

　　这一切只是我的幻想。你看得见么?

　　“―――我看得见。”

英语春天的作文篇2

　　A Busy Spring 忙碌的春天

　　As spring comes, everything on earth comes to life. After an overnight s raining, the trees and flowers seem to wear their new clothes. Birds are chanting in trees. Butterflies keep dancing in flowers. All these elements form an elegant spring life.

　　春天来了，地球上的一切都苏醒了。一整夜的雨之后，树木和鲜花似乎都穿上了新衣服。鸟儿在树上歌唱。蝴蝶在花花间跳舞。所有这些自然力量形成了一个优雅的春天生活。

　　As spring comes, everything is in a rush. Swallows are busy with building their nests; frogs are busy with breeding their offspring; little grass is busy with growing up; seeds are busy with sprouting. And the farmers are busy with their farm work. Look, how hard they are working in their field! So there s no doubt that they will reap a good harvest through their hard work.

　　春天来了，一切都是匆匆忙忙的。燕子正在忙着筑巢;青蛙都忙着繁殖后代;小草忙于成长;种子忙着发芽。农民忙于农活。看，在他们的田野上他们是多么努力的.工作啊!所以毫无疑问，通过他们的努力工作他们会有一个很好的收成。

英语春天的作文篇3

　　Then a strange blight crept over the area and everything began to change . Some evil spell had settled on the community : mysterious maladies swept the flocks of chickens ; the cattle and sheep sickened and died . Everywhere was a shadow of death. The farmers spoke of much illness among their families. In the town the doctors had become more and more puzzled by new kinds of sickness appearing among their patients . There had been several sudden and unexplained deaths not only among adults but even among children ， who would be stricken suddenly while at play and die within a few hours.

　　There was a strange stillness. The birds， for example ---where had they gone ?Many people spoke of them， puzzled and disturbed. The feeding stations in the backyards were deserted. The few birds seen anywhere were moribund .They trembled violently and could not fly. It was a spring without voices . On the mornings that had once throbbed with the dawn chorus of robins ， doves ， jays ， wrens ，and scores of other bird voices there was now no sound ; only silence lay over the fields and woods and marsh.

　　On the farms the hens brooded ， but no chicks hatched .The farmers complained that they were unable to raise any pigs --the litters were small and the young survived only a few days .The apple trees were coming into bloom but no bees droned among the blossoms， so there was no pollination and there would be no fruit. The roadsides ， once so attractive， were now lined with browned and withered vegetation as though swept by fire . There ， too， were silent ， deserted by all living things .Even the streams were now lifeless. Anglers no longer visited them ， for all the fish had died. In the gutters under the eaves and between the shingles of the roofs ， a white granular powder still showed a few patches ： some weeks before it had fallen like snow upon the roofs and the lawns， the fields and sreams.

英语春天的作文篇4

　　the waterfall behind our house at the lower end of lake edenwold is a thundering cascade of spring runoff from the melting snows of winter. it's been a three-week drum roll leading up to today, when the cymbal will crash and the earth will arrive at that point in its orbit around the sun where it will be light for as many hours as it will be dark.

　　today is really the celestial climax to a prelude whose crescendo has been growing now for a month in the forests and lakes all around us. beginning in late february and through the month of march on my saturday morning hikes through the lower highlands, i have watched spring slowly unfold before my eyes.a pair of hooded mergansers suddenly appeared on our lake earlier this month and i heard the unmistakable call of a wood duck. several thousand feet overhead, an enormous, migratory flock of canada geese undulated like strands of limp black thread suspended against a steel gray sky; their wild honking clearly audible in spite of the flock's altitude.

　　just a little more than one week ago, as i came to a place in the woods where the forest suddenly yields to what is a wild flower meadow in the late spring and summer, the bare trees were filled with hundreds of red-winged blackbirds, their cacophonous chatter filling the otherwise still morning air. it was an eerie harbinger of spring, reminiscent of the alfred hitchcock movie "the birds." later that same afternoon, a small flock of cedar waxwings, another migratory species of songbirds stopped for a rest in a nearby tree only two blocks from our house.

　　man has always been fascinated with the arrival of spring. king solomon weighed in on it when he wrote these words from his "song" in the old testament: "see! the winter is past; the rains are over and gone. flowers appear on the earth; the season of singing has come, the cooing of doves is heard in our land. the fig tree forms its early fruit; the blossoming vines spread their fragrance."the arrival of spring has always marked a rebirth of sorts, not just for nature but also for us humans. it is a time of awakening, a time to forget the old and to embrace the new.

　　for most kids it's simply a time when they can play outside longer, riding their new bicycles and skateboards or shooting hoops in driveway basketball courts. for some adults it can be a serious time, a release from the seasonal depression caused by the reduced hours of sunlight during the dark months of winter.but for most of us, it is a release from the mundane things that after three months have added up to the point where we are all just ready for a change. you know: things like having to wear layers of heavy clothing, white-knuckle drives to work on icy roads, and leaving home mornings in the dark only to drive back home again in darkness later the same afternoon.

　　the crocus and daffodils will soon start peeking their heads above last year's pine bark nuggets and what's left of the winter snow still piled in the beds under the white pines out by the road.they are yet another prelude to the appearance of more flowers and birds: the warblers and the tanagers that will shortly appear in the trees around my home. i can't wait to inhale the aromas of things like the warming earth, new mown grass, and fresh piles of damp cedar mulch. and i am looking forward to that first morning when i can sit outside on my deck with a cup of coffee and feel comfortable without having to don a fleece or a heavy woolen shirt.

　　whatever your passion in life, take time like the busy king solomon to pause from it for a moment over the next few weeks and just sit and watch and enjoy the spectacle of spring unfold before your eyes.

　　and give thanks.

英语春天的作文篇5

　　spring comes!

　　as the sun sprays its light, the air is pervaded by the smell of spring! when you look from the fourth floor of the no. 3 teaching building, a large picture you will probably entitle it fresh green is unfolded before your eyes. you feel astonished at the sight of the blooming white orchids along the road to the school canteen, especially at the amazing speed at which they climb up the tree!

　　its spring, my favorite season, an outburst of hope.

　　one day in spring, on my way back to the dorm, an unusual scene came into my sight. onto the playground ran a girl and three boys, followed by a large group of people. what was happening? oh, many a student was playing rope skipping there!some skipped on their own;others did one by one with a longer rope. it suddenly reminded me of the skipping contest on the following tuesday, attended by all the departments. no delay any more, i hurried to look for my classmates!

　　here they were! i spotted them right away at one corner of the playground. apparently, the team had not decided upon the candidates to control the long rope. boys and girls, nearly every one on the scene tried once. but girls seemed to have a better command of the rope. so two girls assumed the key responsibility.

　　pa, pa, pa, pa at a moderate speed, we began to practice.no one knew how well it would do as the team was just composed of volunteers who love sports. the first member rushed in and out, with a swift skip in the halfway. good! i whispered.then the second one repeated the same perfect performance.then the third, the fourth... great! i could not help crying out. a slight hope of winning sneaked into my mind, maybe we can win... pa! a loud crash disturbed my dreaming. the rope had stopping whirling for the first time. take it easy. its just a little... hardly had i finished my self-comforting than the second stop followed. a breath of wind chilled my heart. i could sense that everyone appeared to be clam, as they always were.without a word of blame, a big hand patted on the two unlucky ones. have one more try! as someone shouted, the rope came back to life again.

　　sure, we should try!

　　though full of hope, we were not blessed with perfect techniques at that time. the two unlucky ones had trouble again and again at the second round, third round... it seemed as if they had got lost in a psychological maze, trying to locate the eit in no time. however, against their good wish, it was more haste,less speed.

　　a fit of desperation seized me, but i soon got over it. for i felt obliged to give comfort to the two poor guys, telling them not to worry and i knew a few words would bring courage to continue the practice! to my great joy, i was not the only one thinking in this way. slowly, all the despair melted away in the daylight. smiles, jokes, and friendly tones filled the air with warm spring smell. we found the sun still shining high up the sky, spreading light and hope.

　　we restarted. although not much improvement was made during the first day of training, however, i knew no one cared,and no one cared about that prize. for we were progressing towards our goal. it was the precious teamwork and the hope of spring that we really cared.

英语春天的作文篇6

　　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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