春天是万物生长的季节，是一个充满希望的季节，下面是小编为大家整理的英语作文：快乐的春天，希望能帮到您！

　　英语作文一：快乐的春天

　　It’s spring. It’s sunny and cloudy today. There are many big trees in the park. Mr. Black’s family have a picnic in a park. They bring many food there. They bring fruit, drink and bread. Mr. Black and Mrs. Black talk with each other. They talk very happily. Ann reads a magazine. Tom likes flying a kite. The kite flies very well. They are hungry now. They want to eat their food. They are very happy.

　　春天到了，今天的天气晴朗，多云。在公园里有很多的树木。布莱克先生一家在公园有一个野餐。他们带到了很多食物。有水果，饮料和面包。布莱克夫妇彼此交流着。他们聊得非常开心。荌在看报纸。汤姆喜欢放风筝。风筝飞得非常高。他们现在饿了，想吃带的食物，他们非常开心。

　　英语作文二：快乐的春天

　　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.

　　英语作文三：快乐的春天

　　Hello, my dear friends! What’s my favourite season? Let me tell you.My favourite season is spring. Spring is a lovely season, I think. There is a garden behind my house. In spring, the trees become green and the flowers give off fragrance(芳香). There are many butterflies and bees over the flowers. The butterflies are dancing and the bees are singing. Sometimes it rains. It usually rains quietly. The rain moistens(滋润) the trees and the flowers. I think they may say, “We’re very thirsty. The rain is very good. It can help us.” What a beautiful scene! Don’t you think so? And what about your favourite season,could you tell me?

　　英语作文四：快乐的春天

　　Springs are not always the same. In some years, April bursts upon Virginia hills in one prodigious leap ? and all the stage is filled at once, whole choruses of tulips, arabesques of forsythia, cadenzas of floweringplum. The trees grow leaves overnight.

　　In other years, spring tiptoes in. It pauses, overcome by shyness, like my grandchild at the door, peeping in, ducking out of sight, giggling in the hallway. “I know you’re out there,” I cry. “Come in!” And April slips into our arms.

　　The dogwood bud, pale green, is inlaid with russet markings. Within the perfect cup a score of clustered seeds are nestled. One examines the bud in awe: Where were those seeds a month ago? The apples display their milliner’s scraps of ivory silk, rose-tinged. All the sleeping things wake up ? primrose, baby iris, blue phlox. The earth warms ? you can smell it, feel it, crumble April in your hands.

　　Look to the rue anemone, if you will, or the pea patch, or to the stubborn weed that thrusts its shoulders through a city street. This is how it was, is now, and ever shall be, the world without end. In the serene certainty of spring recurring, who can fear the distant fall?