春天的英语作文

时间:2023-04-08 15:17:54 英语作文 我要投稿

【热门】春天的英语作文汇总六篇

  在学习、工作乃至生活中,大家都写过作文吧,作文是经过人的思想考虑和语言组织,通过文字来表达一个主题意义的记叙方法。如何写一篇有思想、有文采的作文呢?下面是小编为大家整理的春天的英语作文6篇,欢迎大家借鉴与参考,希望对大家有所帮助。

【热门】春天的英语作文汇总六篇

春天的英语作文 篇1

  Spring has come, the swallows return from the south, it is a beautiful black feathers, a pair of beautiful wings of light, in the sky and pecked the branches for the home to build their nests. I seem to hear it say: “ I can move the new home again. I'm so happy! ”

  Willow spit out the green shoots I came to a small river, saw the embankment, full of vigor and vitality, in the summer, people can rely on the shade in its body, it is so happy! I heard the buzz buzz “ ” singing cheerful songs, I asked. “ stream, brook, where are you going? ” Brooks said: “ I will flow into the river, on the road I can moisten the fields, wet land … I can make a little contribution for people &rdquo I am very happy;

  I came to a garden of flowers, a riot of colour, powder like Xia, white as snow, red Sihuo, really beautiful ah! People praise the beautiful and bright flowers. The flower listened to the words of praise and was very happy.

  I come to the fields, the sky began to rain misty spring rain, the wet grass, make the grass more green, wet earth, making the earth more soft … the farmer uncle smiled a sweet smile, they planted a pumpkin, corn … … they also sow hope, hope for the coming year to have a good harvest in autumn. They seem to see the eggplant on the purple robe, the winter gourd on the white yarn, the sorghum raised the torch … … they have a happy smile.

  I came to the Daning river again. I saw my kids running on the beach. They were watching colorful smiles. They smiled happily.

  What a beautiful spring is, how sweet, and how gorgeous! I like spring because she makes everything so happy in the world!

春天的英语作文 篇2

  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.

春天的英语作文 篇3

  Spring comes at last. Everything begins to grow. The trees turn green, and the flowers come out. On the playground, in the fields, on each side of the road, the young grass grows everywhere.

  Spring also arrives in our school. Come and see, behind our teaching building, there are some small pear trees covered with white flowers; on both sides of it, there are some other flowers smiling at you, Some are yellow, some are red. In our school garden, more flowers are there. All kinds of flowers of many colours can be seen.

  Look, there are some Kites flying in the sky. The spring wind is blowing. The sun is shining brightly. Some boys are playing games in the sun, Listen, a group of girls are singing "Where’s spring?" It sounds like the singing of lark birds. All these make me think that spring is here, spring is there, and spring is just in our school. Fhe boys and the girls are all like flowers in spring.

  What a beautiful season! How lovely the children are!

  春天终于来了。万物开始生长。树变绿了,花儿开了。在操场上,在田野,路的两边,小草长出。

  春天也来到了我们的学校。来看看,我们的教学楼后面,有一些小梨树上挂满了白色的花;在它的两侧,还有一些其他的花儿向你微笑,有黄色的,有红色的。在我们学校的花园里,有更多的花。各种各样的.花的颜色可以看到许多。

  看,有一些风筝在天空中飞翔。春天的风吹。阳光是明媚的。一些男孩在阳光下,玩游戏,听,一群女孩正在唱“春天在哪里?”它听起来像云雀在歌唱。这些都让我觉得春天来了,春天在那里,春天就在我们的学校。这些男孩和女孩都像春天的花朵。

  一个多么美丽的季节!多可爱的孩子!

春天的英语作文 篇4

  The winter of the year has passed, and the spring girl should say goodbye to Grandpa winter. It's so fast all the year round!

  The spring breeze blew gently. The flowers opened and the grass was green. The little swallow flew back from the South and the children came out and played happily. In the spring, we will have new discovery, the secret of spring is so much! We grew up happily in the spring. Spring is a warm, beautiful, happy and beautiful season!

  I like the beautiful spring.

春天的英语作文 篇5

  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.

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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