英语春天的作文

时间：2026-05-31 18:13:30 英语作文

[实用]英语春天的作文4篇

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[实用]英语春天的作文4篇

英语春天的作文篇1

　　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2

　　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3

　　Spring, I never had strong feeling to spring before last year. Some people said spring should be a happy season. But I never sensed that. I always liked the autumn because I thought autumn was a romantic season. I liked summer when I was very young for I loved my skirt with lace.Now, I still like autumn and summer,while I like spring and winter.

　　Before I disliked the various colors of the flowers,and I thought they are flighty and superficial. I thought only only the blue ocean is deep, the golden autumn is elegant. However, now I have a different idea that I find spring wonderful. I like the blossom in the field and in the moutain. From them I am spirited with life.

英语春天的作文篇4

　　I was born in Guangdong, the southernmost province in mainland China where in winter the temperature seldom falls be low 5C. For the past 19 years, I had never seen snow. I couldn't remember from when I had been dreaming of seeing a real snow, and experiencing a bleak winter.

　　Before I entered the university, I had never expected the climate difference of Shanghai and Guangzhou. But as October came, the falling golden leaves and the chilly winds indicated that this winter would be cold.

　　October walked away in the whisper of the falling leaves.Winter approached in November, and then December.

　　The dazzling golden color already faded away, leaving only the bare branches sticking out into the frosty air. Grass that was once as thick as a fine cardigan carpet could no longer be found anywhere. What I saw were the slushy fields which were jade green in September.

　　I considered it a great fortune to watch the sun, which was mild, jumping off the horizon and into those bare branches.Even on sunny days, the temperature was still low. The campus was left deserted and lifeless.

　　Was this what I had been longing for? Could it be called a bleak winter? I thought I should feel satisfied. Shanghai is still in the south. I couldn't expect more. But there was still some thing in my mind, as it

　　was only one step to my dream. I prayed every day for a snow. A slight one could be enough. Once again.God heard.

　　I'll never forget the morning of Christmas. On my way to the library, a white elf found its way into my coat. It took me more than a minute to realize what was happening. Believe it or not, it snowed. Suddenly I understood why God took all the signs of life away in winter. He must have been clearing up a stage for his spoiled kid snow.

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