春天的英语作文

时间：2022-01-31 11:30:26 其他类英语作文我要投稿

春天的英语作文锦集六篇

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春天的英语作文锦集六篇

春天的英语作文篇1

　　Spring

　　Spring gradually returned to the earth, was the spring of the girl wake up again gradually active in the earth up. It was covered with flowers district filled with rich floral and that not only sounds, but also a wonderful Xiaosheng, I am relaxed and happy.

　　I am afraid to break the share of quiet, intoxicated with the step by step, and slowly down the marble staircase that smooth, that the beauty of spring, that spring immediately to my eye: a small flower bud in the spring when the girl came out of a change Duo beautiful winter jasmine, it seems that one after another of the golden Shakes the Barley, gently in the wind, it is like a lively little speakers are just playing the wonderful music it! The winter jasmine neighbor has just stuck your head out soon, they are the world's fastest-growing, very tenacious vitality of tall bamboo plants, their straight to keep the basketball court next to the guard is not only the audience, looked very imposing. Wind, light leisurely way across their faces bamboo, bamboo in the ground trembled slightly, I really like in yelled out: "Go, go, must not lose!"

　　Look at that side of several happy children, are playing 老鹰捉小鸡 it! Nazhi awkward "eagle" left right hop hop kept on holding clever in a "chick" it! After a very long time, "Eagles" tired sweating profusely, or nothing. Suddenly a "chick" dodgy caught behind the success was an eagle, only the poor, "chick" a butt sitting on the ground Wawadaku, everyone in this moment with a laugh ... ...

　　I walked, kept trained on a sheet descending from the sky to collect samples of leaves and enjoy with ulterior motives in a red corner edge of the apricot in the springtime beauty of the contests, and they are playing it who is the most beautiful! Felt the kids happy mood. At this point, I was reminded of the beautiful spring of the Southern Song Dynasty poet Ye Shao Weng, "not worth the Garden" in the poem: Spring beauties lock in limitless, an affair, come. Ah! I love the beauty of spring. But I love spring, it is encouraging, urging them motivated share of the good mood.

春天的英语作文篇2

　　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.

　　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.

春天的英语作文篇3

　　It's already February. Spring is coming. But where is spring? I raise my head and look at the sky. It's still gray. I come to the garden. There is no bud at all. The trees there are not coming into leaf. Then I come to the lakeside. Ice on the lake surface has been melt already. There are many ducks swimming in the distance. Branches of the willows beside the lake are turning GREen. I jumped with joy. This is spring. I found it!

春天的英语作文篇4

　　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.

春天的英语作文篇5

　　春天在哪里?春天在哪里?春天在田野里。田野里长满了漫山遍野的油菜花像一片金色的海洋。农民伯伯在田野里插上了秧苗，春风一吹它们救在尽情跳舞。田野里的蒲公英长大了它们坐着顺风车去各地游玩。

　　Where is spring? Where is spring? Spring is in the field. The fields are full of rape flowers like a golden ocean. Farmer uncle planted seedling in the field, the spring breeze blows them to save in heartily dance. The dandelions in the fields grow up and they ride around in windmills.

　　春天在哪里?春天在哪里?春天在花园里。桃花笑红了脸，像穿上了一件粉红色的裙子显得楚楚动人。梨花开了像一片片雪花，五颜六色的郁金香实在是太美了。

　　Where is spring? Where is spring? Spring is in the garden. Peach blossom blushed with a smile, as if wearing a pink skirt. Pear blossom like a snowflake, colorful tulip is too beautiful.

　　春天在哪里?春天在哪里?春天在森林里。竹子挺着直直的身子像士兵。蘑菇像一把把小伞。哦原来春天在眼睛里。

　　Where is spring? Where is spring? Spring is in the forest. Bamboo has a straight body like a soldier. The mushroom is like an umbrella. Oh, spring is in my eyes.

春天的英语作文篇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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