英語春天的作文

時間：2026-03-23 00:01:02 英語作文

英語春天的作文常用4篇

　　在平平淡淡的學習、工作、生活中，大家總少不了接觸作文吧，借助作文人們可以實現文化交流的目的。那么問題來了，到底應如何寫一篇優秀的作文呢？以下是小編為大家整理的英語春天的作文4篇，僅供參考，歡迎大家閱讀。

英語春天的作文常用4篇

英語春天的作文篇1

　　春天來啦！柳樹發芽了，長長的柳條隨風擺動著輕盈的腰肢，歡快的跳起了“華爾茲”舞。美麗的'桃花開了，露出了粉嘟嘟的笑臉，它們的外表吸引了蜜蜂來采花釀蜜。小草也從地下探出頭來一個勁兒往上竄，一片片草地像鋪了一塊塊綠色的地毯。

　　Spring is coming! Willow sprouted, long wicker swaying with the wind light waist, happy to dance "waltz". The beautiful peach blossom is blooming, showing its pink smiling face. Their appearance attracts bees to gather flowers and make honey. The grass also came out of the ground and started up. The grass seemed to be covered with green carpet.

　　可愛的小燕子從南方飛回來了，它們高興地叫著：“春天來啦！春天來啦！”小鴨子在池塘里快活地游來游去，真是“春江水暖鴨先知呀！”小蝌蚪們也搖擺著尾巴，爭先恐后地正在找媽媽呢！

　　The lovely little swallow flew back from the south. They cried happily, "spring is coming!"! Spring is coming! " The little duck is swimming happily in the pond. It's really "the prophet of warm duck in spring river!" Tadpoles are also wagging their tails, scrambling to find their mother!

　　小朋友們出來春游啦！他們有的在跑著跳著放風箏，有的在唱歌跳舞，還有的在畫春天的美景。瞧！他們多快樂呀！

　　Children are out for spring outing! Some of them are running and flying kites, some are singing and dancing, and some are painting the beautiful scenery of spring. Look! How happy they are!

　　春天來到啦！萬物復蘇了，到處都充滿了鳥語花香！一片片生機勃勃的景象盡收眼底。

　　Spring is coming! Everything is revived, everywhere is full of birds and flowers! There was a panoramic view of the scene.

英語春天的作文篇2

　　星期天上午，我懷著愉快的心情和媽媽一起去人民公園尋找春天的足跡。

　　Sunday morning, I went to the people's park with my mother in a happy mood to find the footprints of spring.

　　進了公園大門，我看見一片美麗的蝴蝶花，有紅的、黃的和藍的三種顏色，我輕輕地摸了摸花瓣，感覺軟軟的，滑滑的，幾只小蜜蜂在花叢中翩翩起舞，仿佛是在與美麗的蝴蝶花嬉戲。

　　Entering the gate of the park, I saw a beautiful butterfly flower, which has three colors of red, yellow and blue. I touched the petals gently, feeling soft and slippery. Several small bees danced in the flowers, as if they were playing with the beautiful butterfly flower.

　　地上嫩綠的小草使勁地從土里鉆出身子，享受著甘甜的雨露、和煦的`陽光，呼吸著清新的空氣，好像給大地迅速鋪上了一層嫩綠的毛毯。

　　The green grass on the ground comes out of the soil vigorously, enjoying the sweet rain and sunshine, breathing the fresh air, as if it has quickly spread a green blanket on the earth.

　　墻邊幾棵婀娜多姿的桃樹，曲曲折折的枝條上悄悄地長出了一簇簇紫紅色的花骨朵兒，像一群群既調皮可愛，又害羞臉紅的小姑娘。

　　A few graceful peach trees beside the wall quietly grow clusters of purplish red flower bones on the twists and turns of the branches, like groups of girls who are naughty, cute and shy.

　　路邊一片梨樹也開出了雪白的花朵，在春風的吹動下，梨花竟跳起舞來，花瓣象雨一樣緩緩飄下，落到我的頭上，頓時一股清香撲鼻而來，沁人心脾。

　　A pear tree on the road also produced snow-white flowers. Under the spring wind, the pear flowers danced, and the petals slowly floated down like rain, falling on my head. Suddenly, a fresh fragrance came to me, refreshing.

　　公園里的小河在陽光照射下靜靜地流淌著，一陣微風吹來，河面散射出點點柔美的星光，空中的幾只小鳥似乎也被星光所吸引，嘰嘰喳喳地議論個不停。

　　The river in the park flows quietly in the sunshine. A breeze blows. The river scatters a little bit of soft starlight. A few birds in the air seem to be attracted by the starlight and chatter incessantly.

　　感受著公園里的一草一木，一景一色，我忽然發現自己找到了春的足跡，她的顏色是五彩紛呈的，她的氣息是清新宜人的，她的聲音是歡快動聽的，她的感覺是柔軟甜潤的，整個公園被春姑娘的足跡點綴成了童話般的世界。

　　Feeling the grass, trees and scenery in the park, I suddenly found that I found the footprints of spring. Her color is colorful, her breath is fresh and pleasant, her voice is pleasant, her feeling is soft and sweet. The whole park is dotted with the footprints of spring girls into a fairy tale world.

英語春天的作文篇3

　　Suddenly, winter winter, the weather began to gradually pick up, the climate became wetter, giving a moist warm feeling. Spring has come back at last, and its arrival gives nature a new sight. Everywhere is full of vitality, full of vitality.

　　In the spring, it is the season of flying kites. I'm going to fly a kite with a couple of guys today. We were excited and shouting and shouting, running and jumping, happy like a happy little bird, and the playground suddenly became lively. When you see people running and putting lines on the other side, the colorful kites slowly rise, rise and rise, and show different forms in the blue sky. Some like the large aircraft, flying in the sky; some like goldfish, free to travel in the blue sea; some like butterflies, dancing in the pear; some like the eagle, in the blue sky fluttering strong wings and fly to the distant ahead & … … ah, the blue sky a riot of colours, like a kaleidoscope, like a beautiful paradise.

　　After the burst of spring rain, a clump of green grass stretches. A small blue flower, small white flowers and small red … … like a shy little girl. The willow wobble the newly grown twigs. The peach trees open the pink smiling face to greet the beautiful spring. Spring after a winter sleeping trees are covered with green gauze, green shoots and out of the branches, with the new desire and vision for the future, in the breeze!

　　Ah! The spring, like a picture, paper, the pen, painted with a vigorous color, the green belt in the wilderness, mountains; the brilliant colors, with flowers, the blue; covered on the sea, the waters of the lake with the light green.

　　I love spring, like a traveler, wandering the Quartet, sowing the seeds of spring spring, the spread of news, wake a hibernating animal, over the river ice and the morning, warm feeling, the earth melted snow.

英語春天的作文篇4

　　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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