英语春天的作文

时间：2026-05-15 19:58:33 英语作文

[合集]英语春天的作文4篇

　　在生活、工作和学习中，大家最不陌生的就是作文了吧，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。你写作文时总是无从下笔？下面是小编帮大家整理的英语春天的作文4篇，欢迎大家借鉴与参考，希望对大家有所帮助。

[合集]英语春天的作文4篇

英语春天的作文篇1

　　春天的阳光是五颜六色的。它照在被子上，被子就金光闪闪了，比原来也暖和多了。它照在墙上，墙上好像刷了一层银色的'油漆。它照在大树上，树叶就绿得发亮。它照在花朵上，花儿笑红了脸。它照在小河里，河面就像闪闪的锦缎。它照在我们身上，我们就快快乐乐地成长.......

　　The sunshine in spring is colorful. When it shines on the quilt, it's golden and much warmer than before. It hit the wall as if it had been painted in silver. When it shines on a big tree, the leaves are bright green. It shone on the flowers, which blushed with laughter. It's shining in the river. The river is like glittering brocade. It shines on us, and we grow happily

　　我非常感谢阳光，我爱阳光。

　　I thank sunshine very much. I love sunshine.

英语春天的作文篇2

　　过了春节，时光像一列奔驰火车，轰隆隆的带走了冬天。

　　After the Spring Festival, time like a Mercedes Benz train, rumbling away the winter.

　　屋顶上的积雪融化了，古树摇着枝丫，小鸟在风中歌唱着，凛冽的风也轻轻的.退去，只有明媚的阳光，暖暖的空气，瓦蓝的天，晶莹的水。

　　The snow on the roof has melted, the ancient trees are shaking their branches, the birds are singing in the wind, and the cold wind is gently retreating, only the bright sunshine, the warm air, the blue sky and the crystal water.

　　小树，泛了绿色，鸭子开始在水面嘎嘎的叫着，水鸟的飞起来……

　　Small trees, green, ducks began to quack on the water, water birds flying

　　春天来了。踏上这春天的脚步我拍了几张家乡的美景。

　　Spring is coming. Stepping on the steps of spring, I took some beautiful pictures of my hometown.

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

　　春回大地，万物复苏。春天问田野你的衣服是什么颜色的？田野说：“我的衣服是五颜六色的。”

　　Spring returns to the earth, and everything recovers. Spring asks the field what color are your clothes? The field said, "my clothes are colorful."

　　它是整片整片的蓝色，天空万里无云，一片蔚蓝，仿佛一块美丽的画布，等待春姑娘去点缀美好的未来。它是一座一座的青色，远处一座座高高的青山充满着生机。它更是点点的绿色，朵朵的黄色……田野里，绿油油的麦田一望无际，春风吹过，它好像向我们点头微笑。有时，像大海上翻滚的波涛；有时，像害羞的'舞者轻轻摇曳。中间那条弯弯的小路，不正是孩子们上学的必经之路吗，是通过未来通过希望的道路。小路的另一边，油菜花开得正灿烂，小蜜蜂在花丛中忙忙碌碌地采着蜜，远看像金色的大地毯，使人们看得眼花缭乱。还有一头吃草的小牛时而抬头仿佛在欣赏这番美景。

　　It is the whole piece of blue, the sky is cloudless, a piece of blue, like a beautiful canvas, waiting for the spring girl to embellish the beautiful future. It is a blue one by one, and a high green mountain in the distance is full of vitality. It's a little bit of green, a little bit of yellow In the field, the green wheat fields are endless, and the spring wind blows, it seems to nod and smile to us. Sometimes, like the rolling waves of the sea; sometimes, like a shy dancer gently swaying. The winding path in the middle is not the only way for children to go to school, but also the way of hope through the future. On the other side of the path, the rape flowers are blooming brightly. The little bee is busy collecting honey in the flowers. It looks like a golden carpet from a distance, which makes people dazzled. There is also a grazing calf sometimes looking up as if enjoying this beautiful scenery.

　　田野的衣裳是由幸福、快乐、美好的事物交织而成，这是春天送给田野最好的礼物。

　　The clothes of the field are made of happiness, happiness and beautiful things, which is the best gift for the field in spring.

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