英语春天的作文

时间：2026-04-30 22:55:25 英语作文

英语春天的作文常用5篇

　　在学习、工作乃至生活中，说到作文，大家肯定都不陌生吧，借助作文人们可以反映客观事物、表达思想感情、传递知识信息。你知道作文怎样才能写的好吗？以下是小编精心整理的英语春天的作文5篇，希望能够帮助到大家。

英语春天的作文常用5篇

英语春天的作文篇1

　　Spring is my favorite season. In spring days, everything comes out. While you are walking outside, your eyes will be filled with green.

　　In spring days, our world is a sunny place, which is covered with green trees and colorful flowers, so it can be described as a paradise. Especially when you are in the countryside, you can see green mountains, vast fields, clean streams, and all the living creatures, coexisting harmoniously. All of them make up the most beautiful picture in the world.

　　In spring days, the sun shines brightly, and there's also some pleasant breeze. So how charming it is while feeling the spring wind blow us. It's also wonderful to enjoy the beautiful sunshine. You will also get a lot of refreshments while having a walk outside.

　　I hope we can enjoy the life of spring every day.

　　春天是我最喜欢的季节。春天一切都发芽了。在外面散步，眼睛里看到的都是满满的绿色。

　　在春天，我们的世界是一个充满阳光的地方，到处都覆盖着绿色的树木和色彩缤纷的鲜花，所以它可以说得上是一个天堂。尤其是当你在乡下时，你可以看到绿色的山，广阔的田野，清澈的小溪，和所有的生物和谐共存。所有这些组成了世界上最漂亮的`画。

　　春天，阳光灿烂，还有一些令人愉快的微风。所以感觉到春风吹过我们的时候该是是多么的令人陶醉。也是享受美丽的阳光时候。你也会觉得恢复精力当你到外面走一走时。

　　我们希望我们可以享受春天的每一天生活。

英语春天的作文篇2

　　Spring is a hopeful and alive season.When you walk through a street in therain,tasting the latex of the clear sky,don't you think it a joys of life? Spring is coming,my dear friends.Listen to the sound of the world and look at the new world.The wind blows our faces gently.However,is different from the winter wind. Do you look forward a sunny day ? Then you can sit on a chair in the garden with flowers are beautiful in the morning in March and ,wait for the sunrise quietly.Is there anybody having a free spirit and tasting a cup of tea,in the new germination of grass.

　　Spring has been here already,my dear friends.When your heart is full of darkness and despair,don't forget your childish dream,and believe,sping is coming soon.

英语春天的作文篇3

　　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.

英语春天的作文篇4

　　Spring Spring, reviving everything. Gently twist the spring a beautiful posture, to wake up sleeping in the underground life. In the branches, it is already bursting out with a beautiful life, they are trying to grow with, it seems that the only way to return the land nourished, they grow with and happy to grow with, and strive to make their own blooming the most beautiful colors. Qingqing lake, Yang Liu Yiyi.

　　Thin thick willow shoots open, gently cage corner to bixi live, semi-curved springs, luring countless butterflies attracted countless bees, confused the hundreds of thousands of hiding behind the fragile soul in the text. They enjoy the bloom, for the sole reward that nourish their land and wake-up to their spring. Spring breeze woke up everything, but also blow the return of their awake heart. That heart, in the flower-decked in the bud gradually.

英语春天的作文篇5

　　Hello, my dear friends! What’s my favourite season? Let me tell you.My favourite season is spring. Spring is a lovely season, I think. There is a garden behind my house. In spring, the trees become green and the flowers give off fragrance. There are many butterflies and bees over the flowers. The butterflies are dancing and the bees are singing. Sometimes it rains. It usually rains quietly. The rain moistens(滋润) the trees and the flowers. I think they may say, “We’re very thirsty. The rain is very good. It can help us.” What a beautiful scene! Don’t you think so? And what about your favourite season,could you tell me?

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