英語春天的作文

時間：2026-03-27 02:35:05 英語作文我要投稿

[熱]英語春天的作文4篇

　　在現(xiàn)實生活或工作學習中，大家總免不了要接觸或使用作文吧，寫作文可以鍛煉我們的獨處習慣，讓自己的心靜下來，思考自己未來的方向。還是對作文一籌莫展嗎？以下是小編為大家整理的英語春天的作文4篇，歡迎大家分享。

[熱]英語春天的作文4篇

英語春天的作文篇1

　　Of the four seasons,I love Spring best.In Spring,the weather gets warmer and everything begins to grow rapidly.If we go to the countryside on a sunny day in Spring,w’ll find tree turning green and flowers blooming.Besides my personal interests,I think the most in important reason Why I like Spring is that Spring signifies hope and progress.I love Spring.

　　所有的四個季節(jié)中，我最喜歡春天。在春天，天氣變暖，萬物復蘇。如果我們在春天陽光明媚的日子里去鄉(xiāng)村，我們將發(fā)現(xiàn)樹葉變綠了鮮花盛開了。除了我的`個人興趣，我認為我喜歡春天的原因在于春天象征著希望和進步。我愛春天。

英語春天的作文篇2

　　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.

　　冬天過去了，春天來了。我最喜愛春天，因為它很漂亮。春天的天氣總是晴朗多雨，不冷也不熱，而且很暖和�；▋洪_始綻放了，樹木也開始變綠。天上的'鳥兒在歌唱，它們很快樂。動物會出去玩。許許多多的人喜歡出去享受陽光。我喜歡穿上我的毛衣和牛仔褲，我喜歡放風箏、種樹、觀賞美麗的花朵。春天是五彩繽紛的，我認為這是一個美妙的季節(jié)。你最喜歡的季節(jié)是什么?請告訴我吧。

英語春天的作文篇3

　　春天的小雨沙沙沙，落在了草坪里，小草垂著頭，向大地母親深深地致謝；春天的小雨沙沙沙，落在了小花的身上，滋潤著小花，用自己的魔力把小花變得更有魅力了；春雨的小雨沙沙沙，落在了小麥的頭上，讓小麥變得更加快樂了——

　　Spring's drizzle and sand fall on the lawn, the grass hangs its head and deeply thanks to the earth mother; spring's drizzle and sand fall on the body of the little flower, moistening the little flower, making the little flower more charming with its own magic; spring's drizzle and sand fall on the head of the wheat, making the wheat more happy——

　　春天的小雨落到了我的手中，品嘗一下，總帶著一股說不出來的甜味涌上

　　The spring drizzle falls into my hands, taste it, and it always comes up with an ineffable sweetness

　　心頭，頓時，感覺身體涼爽極了！春天的小雨煥發(fā)著彩虹般的光澤。春天的小雨，化為一滴水滴來到了充滿快樂和喜悅的人間，它是春姑娘派來的使者告訴我們：“春天來了！春天來了！”。

　　Heart, suddenly, I feel cool! The light rain in spring is shining like a rainbow. Spring drizzle, into a drop of water came to the world full of joy and joy, it is the messenger sent by the spring girl told us: "spring is coming! Spring is coming! ".

　　春天的小雨你是那么的無私，那么的平凡，但是，你只有在春天來臨時才能讓我們看到你，為什么？為什么不能讓我們一年四季享受你的'美麗呢？春雨！我歡迎你的來臨，我愿和你一起玩耍／追逐嬉戲。

　　Spring rain you are so selfless, so ordinary, but you can only let us see you when spring comes, why? Why can't we enjoy your beauty all the year round? Soft spring rain! I welcome you. I'd like to play / chase with you.

　　噢！春雨！我多想化為你，去滋潤偉大祖國的大地，把祖國變成一個綠色的大花園。

　　Oh! Soft spring rain! How I want to turn into you, to moisten the land of the great motherland, to turn the motherland into a green garden.

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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