英语春天的作文

时间：2023-05-02 10:04:04 春天我要投稿

英语春天的作文8篇

　　在学习、工作、生活中，大家都跟作文打过交道吧，作文一定要做到主题集中，围绕同一主题作深入阐述，切忌东拉西扯，主题涣散甚至无主题。你知道作文怎样才能写的好吗？以下是小编帮大家整理的英语春天的作文8篇，欢迎大家借鉴与参考，希望对大家有所帮助。

英语春天的作文8篇

英语春天的作文篇1

　　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.

英语春天的作文篇2

　　Oh! Spring is coming.

　　Look! All the things are reviving. The world is colorful. The trees and grass are green. Flowers are beautiful. Some are red. Some are yellow. Some are purple. The birds are flying in the blue sky. The bees are singing. They are very busy. They are making honey. The butterflies are dancing in the garden. The children are playing games.

　　I like spring.

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

　　In march in the wet air spring, I always imagine a picture: garden outside on the grass with small yellow and purple, the middle of the courtyard of the cherry tree tree tree full of flowers to bloom in a warm southerly breeze slowly, in the replacement of the four seasons of green fruit with wide bilge painful expression, from shiny branches grow out of it. Six in the middle of the night of spring, the old cat can't sleep all night, under the tree stamping, swan couples, bark, and the ducks who teams in pairs to fly to the moon.

　　And I always wake up in the middle of the night, look at the moon rose down-stairs branches long painting on the pebbles, which are covered with buds of green, please.

　　In the middle of the night I heard the spring is static. Lingering in the ear, there is a special sound short, and want to pour a spoonful of sugar into the tea when the sound, it should be a light rain slapping on to the leaves on the trees. They are reminiscent of the day the road leading to the village.

　　"Sand sand sand......", in the darkness, forming a slow rhythm.

　　Slow is composed in B minor. Followed the path of the night and smooth.

　　On the grass in the spring, filled with fluffy dandelion, with a light yellow colour and lustre, clusters into a cluster to hide.

　　Like the raindrops in the air.

　　Don't disturb them. Heavy sleep sleep. Gentle wind rustled gradually forming the flowers. In the gentle spring.

　　"But you and I as a life hasn't been crying, and gets a long sleep time."

　　It's just my fantasy. Can you see?

　　"-- - I can see it."

　　在三月春天濡湿的空气里，我总想象着一幅画面：花园外面的草地上开满了黄色和紫色的小花，院子当中的樱桃树树上满树的花都从熏风里缓慢地绽放，在四季的更替里青色的果子带着张大的胀痛表情，从发亮的枝条里长出来。春天的深夜六，老猫整夜不能安睡，在树下跺着步，天鹅夫妇发出叫声，而野鸭子们成队成对地向月亮飞去。

　　而我总在深夜醒来，看月亮把楼下的蔷薇的'枝条长长地画在卵石上，那上面长满了青请的花苞。

　　我在深夜里，听见了春天的静。萦绕在耳边的，有一种声音特别短促，想一勺糖倒进红茶时发出的声音一样，那应该是小雨拍打到树上的叶子的声音。它们让人想起了白天那些引领着道路通向小区的梧桐树。

　　“沙……沙……沙”，在夜幕里，形成一段缓慢的旋律。

　　缓慢是沉稳的B小调。循着夜的轨迹滑着。

　　在春天的草地上，长满了毛茸茸的蒲公英，带着一种淡黄的色泽，成簇成簇拥挤地隐藏着。

　　像是空气中的雨滴。

　　没有惊扰。沉沉眠眠。温柔的风拂过逐渐成形的花海。在温和的春里。

　　“而你我如同尚未啼哭的生命，时光切不断绵长的沉眠。”

　　这一切只是我的幻想。你看得见么?

　　“―――我看得见。”

英语春天的作文篇5

　　Winter was gone,spring comes.I love spring best,because it's very beautiful.In spring,the weather is aways sunny and rainy,it's not cold and not hot,it's warmer and warmer.The flowers begin to open and the trees begin to turn green.The birds are singing in the sky,they are happy.The animals will go out to play.Many people like to go out and enjoy the sunshine.I like wearing my sweater and jeans, I like to fly kites,plant trees and see the beautiful flowers. Spring is colorful,I think it's a wonderful season. What's your favourite season?Please tell me.

　　冬天过去了，春天来了。我最喜爱春天，因为它很漂亮。春天的天气总是晴朗多雨，不冷也不热，而且很暖和。花儿开始绽放了，树木也开始变绿。天上的鸟儿在歌唱，它们很快乐。动物会出去玩。许许多多的人喜欢出去享受阳光。我喜欢穿上我的'毛衣和牛仔裤，我喜欢放风筝、种树、观赏美丽的花朵。春天是五彩缤纷的，我认为这是一个美妙的季节。你最喜欢的季节是什么?请告诉我吧。

英语春天的作文篇6

　　Spring is the first season in the year.

　　春天是一年中的.第一个季节。

　　In our country, it lasts from March to May.

　　在我国，春天从三月持续到五月。

　　In spring, the weather is comfortable, but it changes a lot. It rains sometimes.

　　春天，天气很舒适，但是变化无常。有时候会下雨。

　　Many things come into life in spring. The trees turn green. People like to go outdoors to have fun.

　　春天是万物复苏的季节，树木也变绿了，人们喜欢外出游玩。

　　Besides, farmers are busy in spring, because it’s time for them to plant crops.

　　除此之外，春天也是农民忙碌的季节，因为是时候种植庄稼了。

　　All people are preparing for the whole year.

　　所有人都在为全年做准备。

英语春天的作文篇7

　　Spring is coming, spring is coming, willow trees are sprouting, and the grass is secretly coming out of the ground. People take off the thick winter clothes, put on a beautiful spring. The smell of spring is on every face.

　　The children come up with all kinds of kites to play, to see who flies high and see who flies far.

　　My mother and I went to the park to look for spring. Where is spring? Spring is on the branch, spring is on the lawn, and spring is on the children's faces.

英语春天的作文篇8

　　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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