How to describe a natural landscape. Beautiful descriptions of nature. Description of spring - May

"The fields are spacious, silent
They shine, drenched in dew...
Silent and sad forest high,
Green, dark forest is silent"

The mystery of majestic nature

The famous Russian writer Ivan Sergeevich Turgenev became famous as a master of landscape. In his work, the description of the picture of nature is inseparable from the life of the characters, their mood and inner experiences. The author's landscapes are not only filled with colorful, realistic and detailed description, but also carry a psychological and emotional load. With the help of a description of nature, the author reveals the inner essence of his hero. So in the novel “Fathers and Sons”, Turgenev, using the landscape of nature, shows how the mood of the hero Arkady himself changes, the author very accurately conveys it inner world. Nature in Turgenev’s description is very colorful, the author presents it in such detail that the picture literally comes to life. The words that the writer chooses very accurately convey the landscape presented: “golden and green, ... shiny under the quiet breath of a warm breeze.”

The nature presented in Turgenev's works is very diverse. In the story “Bezhin Meadow”, the July landscape is vividly presented: “the color of the sky, light, pale lilac”, “in the dry and clean air there is the smell of wormwood, compressed rye, buckwheat”, at night “the steel reflections of water, occasionally and vaguely flickering, denoted it current." The writer is imbued with the description of nature so much that his landscapes become so real, as if they come to life. The colorfulness of his paintings can be compared to the work of an artist’s brush. But with only one difference - Turgenev’s landscapes are dynamic, they are in constant motion. The author very colorfully conveys the beginning of the rain in the story “Biryuk” from the series “Notes of a Hunter”: “ Strong wind Suddenly there was a roar in the heights, the trees began to storm, large drops of rain began to knock sharply, splashed on the leaves, lightning flashed, and a thunderstorm broke out. The rain poured down in streams."

Turgenev understood nature, admired its majesty and the rigor of the laws it established. He noted man's powerlessness before the power of nature and admired, even with some fear, its power. Nature appears as something eternal, unshakable, in contrast to human mortal existence. The writer tries to see the common connection between nature and man, but stumbles over its serene silence. The author has repeatedly noted the independence of the laws of nature from human aspirations, plans, ambitions and human life in general. Nature in Turgenev's works is simple and open in its reality, but complex and mysterious in the manifestations of forces often hostile to man.

He was even frightened by the indifference of nature, embodied in the inviolability of laws over which man had no influence. Everything is in her power, regardless of human desire or consent. The author demonstrates this manifestation especially clearly in the poetic prose “Nature”. Here Turgenev turns to Mother Nature with the question: “What are you thinking about? Isn’t it about the future destinies of humanity ... ”However, the answer surprised him very much; it turns out that at this time she is caring about improving the life of the flea. “Reason is not my law,” she answered in an iron, cold voice.

The endless mysteries of nature and the universe bother the author and disturb his imagination. The image of nature in Turgenev's works is shown very colorfully and professionally, using rich Russian speech, giving the landscape an indescribable beauty, filled with colors and smells.

June-Hleborost. At the beginning of summer, nature awakened and now its active growth begins, which is why the month is called “Grain Growing”. The rye is earing, the gardens are filled with wildly blooming greenery. The sun rises high above the sky and begins to heat even more, the day becomes long, and the evening becomes long and warm.

June: warmth envelops the earth

Description of the nature of summer at its very best early, in June(I - II week).
Summer has come. June. Nature blooms and ripens in summer, the gardens are full of greenery, the meadows are covered with a wide trail of green grass. Heavy cumulus clouds slowly soar in the sky, like huge ships. And although the month of May at the end indulged in warm and summer-like days, the first June days often cool, sometimes rainy. There is no need to be upset, because the prolonged cloudy weather at the beginning of the month will not last long. A dry anticyclone will bring warm winds, and the sun high in the sky will provide warm and hot weather. In June, the air temperature is moderate without sudden changes and averages +15 +17° C.

Summer takes time to heat up. There are still long hot, sultry and simply warm pleasant days ahead, when the sun wakes up early and sets very slowly, allowing you to walk around to your heart's content before plunging into twilight. And now the sun is starting to get hot, hot days are coming. The greenery is in full bloom, providing edible herbs. The sky is blue and clear, with fluffy clouds floating across it from time to time. The warm air exudes the aroma of flowering.

And, suddenly, unexpectedly, it’s hot summer sun replaced by looming clouds. The sky is rapidly darkening. After all, just now there was sun, and now it has been swallowed up by a menacing darkness, advancing like a front, covering all living things in darkness. Nature is on guard, the birds are quiet, only strong gusts of wind, getting stronger each time, are ready to tear branches from the tops of trees in their path.

Thunder strikes in the first volleys, and immediately, like water from a bucket, a downpour charges. The sky is not visible, only the reflections of lightning alternate with crackling sounds of thunder. The storm subsides as suddenly as it began. The sky brightens, flashes of lightning become less frequent, and the rumbles of thunder recede. The first rays of the sun are peeking through, brightly reflected in the puddles. And again the life of the summer forest comes to life, birds chirp joyfully, animals come out of hiding. Meanwhile, in the forest, in the most hidden dark places, the first mushrooms appear.

The beginning of summer in the folk calendar

"The swallow begins the morning, and the nightingale ends the evening"

At the very onset of summer, since ancient times in Rus', a unique ritual “baptism of the cuckoo” was performed. After the complete departure of winter, cold winds and bad weather, it was necessary to appease summer nature with new plant forces, good weather and a noble harvest. IN ancient Rus' The description of summer from the first days was like this. Early in the morning on the first Sunday of summer, Russian girls went into the forest to find orchis grass - they called it cuckoo tears, and then picked it and took it to the hut to sew outfits, each for their own cuckoo. Then the cuckoos were cuddled, meeting each other, people hugged and kissed. After all, having become related to each other, becoming closer, together they brought the bounty of summer closer to themselves.

Bread comes up in June; it’s not for nothing that the month of June was called “grain growing.” Throughout the first ten days of the month, active sowing took place in the fields, starting with the days of Falaley-Borage and Olena, June 2 and 3, from the name of which it is clear that on these days cucumbers, flax, late wheat, as well as barley and buckwheat were planted. On June 7, aphids appeared, feeding on plant juices and secreting honeydew. By June 11, ears of bread were already sprouting on Fedosya-Chariot, and by this time beans were being planted. From the earliest dawn until late sunset, people worked in the fields in order to be in time before the end of sowing, which fell in the second half of June on the day of the equinox.

Summer in Russian poetry

Summer... One of the most amazing, beautiful and vibrant times of the year. Summer nature is special and impressive. Everyone associates summer with something different: sounds, smells, sensations. These are lush meadow grasses, the aroma of wildflowers and even dusk, coolness spruce forest. All the natural splendor of summer is reflected in the works of famous Russian poets. They dedicated wonderful time a huge number of romantic, exciting lines.

A real hymn to awakening nature is Sergei Yesenin’s ode to a summer morning. Its summers are warm, washed with silvery dew, charming in their calm. This delightful natural idyll is scattered every day with the onset of day into fragments of everyday worries, only to be reborn the next morning.

The golden stars dozed off,
The mirror of the backwater trembled,
The light is dawning on the river backwaters
And blushes the sky grid.

The sleepy birch trees smiled,
Silk braids were disheveled.
Green earrings rustle
And the silver dews burn.

The fence is overgrown with nettles
Dressed in bright mother of pearl
And, swaying, whispers playfully:
"Good morning!"

Afanasy Fet in his work deeply describes nature in the summer, in particular, the lines of the poem “I came to you with greetings...” evoke an association with the maturity of feelings and relationships. The allegorical nature of the lines conveys the special poignancy of life and semantic fullness through romantic feelings, lightness of being and an aura of carelessness.

I came to you with greetings,
Tell me that the sun has risen
What is it with hot light
The sheets began to flutter;

Tell me that the forest has woken up,
All woke up, every branch,
Every bird was startled
AND spring is full thirst;

Tell me that with the same passion,
Like yesterday, I came again,
That the soul is still the same happiness
And I’m ready to serve you;

Tell me that from everywhere
It blows over me with joy,
That I don’t know myself that I will
Sing - but only the song is ripening.

Summer can be different. Everyone sees it in their own way, sometimes experiencing mixed and contradictory, but invariably strong feelings.

June: the sun is turning

Description summer nature June (III - IV week).
Lilacs continue to bloom, the smell of fresh grass spreads throughout the districts. Summer nature fills the air with herbal incense. Now the poplar has already dissolved the fluff in its seeds, just to wait for the light gusts of wind that carry new life around the area. In the forest, in the stands and ponds, the smell of spices spreads, no longer floral, but sweet herbal.

The greens are ripening with all their might, and the strawberries have already sprouted by the end of the month. And the blueberries are already keeping up with them, just have time to pick them. In the morning hours you can hear the cry of swallows, during the day frogs croak in ponds, and the evening ends with the lullaby of a nightingale. This time describes summer nature as the most fertile warm time of the year for working in the fields, evening walks and night gatherings around the fire.

A white blizzard sweeps through the park alleys with a light wind. poplar fluff, a kind of winter in fluffy warm snow. The clearings are covered with the white heads of a horde of dandelions, as if hundreds of little astronauts have landed on earth. Any moment now the wind, swaying the dandelions from side to side, will pick the seeds in the parachutes and carry them away. The squeak of chicks can be heard coming from the treetops; the parents barely have time to feed the voracious maturing chicks. The young grow quickly; before you even notice, they will jump out of the nest and fly off once or twice.

The second half of the month in the folk calendar

“The sun from Peter’s turn softens the course, the month is coming for profit”

The most flowers bloom in June different plants, medicinal herbs, Ivan da Marya rises, at every step there are plantains and buttercups, Ivan Chai is smoothed by the warm winds. Forest edges scatter in juicy spots of berries. In the forest you can pick up a lot of ripe strawberries, and a little later on the higher bushes the wild strawberries will turn red.

The day of June 25th is coming - the solstice point. From this time on, the sun turns towards shorter days. Now in the mornings, cold dew covers the grass low above the ground. This natural water can be drunk because it is very pure, collected from settled air vapors, summer dew does not contain salt deposits. At the end of June, on the 29th, Tikhon arrives, and, indeed, the sun shortens its course, yes, and the birds subside. The sun slowly, with unhurried steps, hovers in the sky. Only in the shadow of the shelter deciduous trees there is salvation from the incandescent rays growing in power. Summer turns into hot July.

Summer in Russian painting

Russian artists convey the picture of the summer landscape in a very colorful and varied way. Here you can see majestic green trees, an eared field, and an extraordinary turquoise sky with light, delicate white clouds.

(Painting by B.V. Shcherbakov “June in the Moscow Region”)

The description of summer nature is unusually colorfully presented in the painting by B.V. Shcherbakov “June in the Moscow Region,” which depicts the real greenery of the forest. From the front right corner into the depths of the picture, meandering along the laid bed, lies the smooth surface of the river. On both sides there are powerful trees, it looks like they are pine trees mixed with deciduous trees. On the right, almost by the river, a slender birch tree stands alone. In the foreground on the left are stacks of harvested hay. The top part of the picture is occupied by clear sky, in which only fluffy white clouds are visible.

sun day

The night disappeared behind a charming cloud, and a rosy morning descended onto the earth. The sun is about to rise. Its rays are already flashing on the horizon. Everyone is waiting for the morning: plants, animals, people. But why isn’t it there yet? Maybe he's still sleeping sweetly? Or maybe they quarreled with the earth and no longer wants to shine? What now? And yet the east is gradually turning pink. Finally, as if from under a blanket, the sun rose above the horizon, majestic and beautiful.

The beam quickly illuminated the water, the forest, the surrounding fields, and people's houses. The earth sparkled like a green carpet in its radiance. When a ray of sunshine reached my face, I woke up, smiled cheerfully at him, opened my eyes and joyfully greeted the new day.

Favorite season

Most of all I love spring. This, in my opinion, is the time of year.

In spring, everything on earth awakens to new life. The snow melts, young green grass appears. Leaves are blooming on trees and bushes. They come back to us in the spring migratory birds: starlings, rooks, storks. They begin to build nests and prepare housing for future chicks.

I love watching spring nature. See how everything around is updated and decorated after winter sleep. The streams sing merrily, feathered musicians glorifying the arrival of spring with all their voices. The air is filled with the fragrant smell of plants. Spring is a renewal in nature. This is exactly why I love her.

Dawn

I really love meeting the first flashes of awakening of a new day. Long before sunrise the sun announces its arrival. It colors the night sky with its rays and extinguishes the stars.

I love to meet the sun, the game and the trembling of the morning flashes of its rays. First, a crimson-red stripe appears on the horizon. Then it turns orange, pink, and then everything around is filled with the sun. And as if for the first time you see a green leaf, a tree that grows up to my window, and a light fog over your hometown, awakening to a new day.

And now the dawn gives way to a new day, is filled with the worries of people’s lives, and I hear a gentle: “ Good morning, son!"

Golden autumn

That's gone warm summer. Autumn has come. Unnoticed, she crept up to our gardens, fields, groves, and forests. Back at the end of August, the trees began to be covered with yellow leaves, and now it was already sparkling in the sun like gold. The trees stood in a crimson, yellow letter that slowly came to the floor. The ground was covered with colorful leaves, as if walking on a beautiful carpet. I love listening to the rustling of fallen leaves, looking at the magical autumn paintings on maple leaves. The short Indian summer flashed by, the cold began to bite, and the feathered musicians fell silent. Now it's time to say goodbye to the golden autumn.

Description essay based on the painting by Belokur “Flowers behind the fence”

In Belokur’s painting there are beautiful flowers against the backdrop of a clear, fine sky. They can be divided into two bouquets. One, the closest one, is in the shadow, the second is more expressive, lighter, illuminated by the sun's rays. There are a few colors: red, green, white, blue. But many intermediate colors are accepted.

I think the craftswoman is very fond of nature, immensely in love with flowers. And there are many of them here. Pink mallows reach for the sun. A climbing birch tree trudged along a birch branch. Snow-white daisies and orange lilies, pink-red tulips and nasturtiums with cherry veins on the petals captivate the eye.

The painting captivates with its harmony of colors and shapes, delights with its beauty and craftsmanship.

Essay - description

Nature is the material world of the Universe; in essence, it is the main object of study of science. In everyday life, the word “nature” is often used to mean habitat habitat (everything that is not created by man).
A corner of nature can be found everywhere: on the street, at home, at school, at work in the form of simple pots of flowers or flowers in a vase that people give to please those to whom they present them. But I have a difficult, but let’s say not the worst, task ahead of me - to describe something so beautiful, charmingly fragile, perfect in its beauty, creative, so that the description of “this” does not bore those reading my essay and, of course, is assessed positively. At the very beginning of my thoughts, I thought to describe the nature of my beloved city of Almaty. Trees that give the city life in summer blooming species, despite the clutter and a large number of cars spoiling the air. In autumn, the leaves are painted in different tones of yellow, red, green, but in winter this variety of colors fades and snow appears on the branches, which shelters them from the cold and wet wind. In the spring we feel the pleasant smell of blooming lilacs, apples, apricots, which subsequently take on appetizing forms and we want to pick, but we are afraid that a neighbor of retirement age will come out and drive away, with the experience of a soldier driving the enemy away from the battlefield, behind her, and such a desired piece of free happiness turns into “quickly hide and rip.”
And yet, my thoughts have come to such a pressing solution to the problem, which I hope no one has ever come up with before me! (At this point you need to giggle, rubbing your palms together, at the genius and greatness of my imagination) I decided to describe a flower that grows on high limestone mountains and about which legends were made by those who knew how to do it. This flower for me is the most incomprehensible combination of tenderness, vulnerability, beauty, intertwined with a thirst for life, perseverance and determination. I think everyone knows the legend of Edelweiss, scientists call it Leontopodium, which means lion's paw. It has become a symbol of hardship and good luck. Imagine a steep limestone mountain, and somewhere in the depths of the rocks hides this fragile flower, only 15-25 cm long. Its petals seem to be covered with frost, which surround the inflorescence in the form of a star. It is not at all large in size, it seemed unremarkable, but there is so much mystery and mystery in it that fascinates and makes one marvel at such perfect beauty. A peaceful, beautiful sight, as rare as it is unusual, and it is found in special places where harmony reigns

Music for happiness - gentle guitar

The first chord is light, a breath of wind, your fingers barely touch the strings. A vanishingly quiet sound, E minor, simpler and there is nothing...
The first snowflake is light, translucent, carried by an almost imperceptible wind. She is the harbinger of snowfall, a scout who was the first to descend to the ground...

The second chord – the fingers of the left hand are deftly rearranged, the right one confidently and softly leads along the strings. Down, down, up - simple and gives the simplest sound. It's not a blizzard or a storm - just snowfall. There can be nothing complicated about it. Snowflakes begin to fly more often - the vanguard of the main forces, sparkling ice stars.

Then the chords replace each other more viscously and tenderly, so that the ear almost does not notice the transition from one sound to another. A transition that always sounds harsh. Instead of a fight, it’s too much. Eight. The intro is played and even if it’s not an instrumental that sounds triumphant and joyful during a summer downpour or viscous and bewitching in a snowstorm, even if it’s just chords put together, the music surprisingly suits the snow outside the window, the white butterflies of winter, the icy tiny stars that are all dancing, dancing their dance in the night sky...

Singing is woven into the music - quiet, the words are indistinguishable, elude perception, mixed with the snowfall and the measured, natural beating of the heart. A clear rhythm and calm strength resound in them. The song has no end, it just softly intertwines with the dance of snowflakes and goes away imperceptibly, leaving the sky and snow alone...
Cold and darkness conceal sounds and movements, reconciling the city with winter...

And the Lord of Snowfall, having played his part on one of the roofs, gently puts his guitar, which has power over the elements, into its case. There is snow on his shoulders and hair, red cheerful sparks flash and go out - snowflakes reflect the light of distant lights. There is light in the windows of the house opposite. There are people there who don’t know how to weave the lace of the elements...

The staircase is an ordinary staircase of a nine-story building. Doors, an elevator always occupied by someone, the dim light of a light bulb on the landing... The Lord of Snowfall walks, holding his guitar, quietly and slowly walking up the steps. From the ninth floor to the first, carefully so as not to disturb the warm feeling of relaxed, trusting happiness that comes every time after completing the game...
And the usual angry question from the mother who opened the door:
– When will you stop playing your games and finally start thinking?
It hits the open soul like a knife. The soft snow wings given by the fulfillment of the present break and only misunderstanding and resentment remain.
Why does she hit where it hurts the most? For what?..

At night, a wild wind mixed with snow blew through the city. Broke tree branches, tore wires, swept roads...
It was the Lord of Snowfall's guitar singing again.