Russian language grade 2 story about winter. Short stories about winter. What is winter

> Tales of Winter and Winter

This section presents a collection of fairy tales about Winter in Russian. Enjoy reading!

• In the kitchen, there was a flat basket on a stool, a saucepan on the stove, and a large white dish on the table. There were black crayfish in the basket, there was boiling water with dill and salt in the pan, but there was nothing on the dish. The hostess entered and began: once - she lowered her hand into the basket and grabbed the black cancer across the back; two - threw ...

They say that a fat horse is considered good, and a rich man is considered wise ... I don’t remember who came up with this proverb. And my father doesn't remember. And my father does not remember my father. And my grandfather's grandfather, they say, did not remember. One thing is clear - this proverb was invented by the rich noyons. Say, look, we are rich because we are born smart, ...

Having finished the creation of the world, God asked the man: - What should I do longer - summer or winter? The man replied: - Ask my friends for a horse and a bull. Let it be as they say. The god of the horse was the first to ask: - How would you like winter to be longer than summer or summer longer than winter? "I would like to," he replied.

• Finally, real spring came: the sun shone brightly, the snow completely melted, the first leaves appeared on the trees. The weather was beautiful: a light spring breeze was blowing, which carried the smells of fresh foliage and first flowers, rare clouds ran across the clear sky, sunny ones played their games in the clearing ...

• Winter this year turned out to be so snowy that the Hedgehog almost never left his house. It was boring, of course, to sit like this at home alone and remember the fun summer days. It was sad not to see his friend, the Hare. But where will you go if the snow has filled up not only the doors, but even the window of the house? And get out...

• In winter, the sun shines, but it does not warm much. It does not stay long in heaven. Winter days are much shorter than summer ones, and nights are longer. In Russia, winters last long and are sometimes very cold. Rivers and lakes freeze so that you can walk and drive on the ice. The ground is covered with a thick layer of snow. Snow is very...

• The old woman winter got angry: she planned to kill every breath from the world. First of all, she began to get to the birds: she was tired of them with their cry and squeak. Winter blew cold, tore the leaves from the forests and oak forests and scattered them along the roads. There is nowhere for the birds to go: they began to gather in flocks, to think of a thought. ...

• After the wedding, Frost and Winter spared neither effort nor time, together they built an ice tower, covered it with a lush snowdrift, decorated it with cheerful garlands of snowflakes, ice flowers. The rooms were filled with tables, cupboards, benches, cupboards with crystal dishes, silver ladles, heavy supplies with mugs and cups ...

Once upon a time there was a peasant Ivan, and he had a wife, Marya. Ivan da Marya lived in love and harmony, only they had no children. So they grew old in solitude. They greatly lamented their misfortune, and only looking at other people's children consoled themselves. And there is nothing to do! So, apparently, they were destined. That one time when...

• Do you know how many months in a year? Twelve. And what are their names? January, February, March, April, May, June, July, August, September, October, November, December. As soon as one month ends, another immediately begins. And it has never happened before that February came before January left, and May overtook ...

Once upon a time there lived a fox and a hare in the forest. They lived not far from each other. Autumn came. It became cold in the forest. They decided to build huts for the winter. The chanterelle built herself a hut from loose snow, and the bunny built herself from loose sand. They overwintered in new huts. Spring has come, the sun has warmed. Chanterelles-on...

In a certain kingdom there lived a merchant. He lived in marriage for twelve years and had only one daughter, Vasilisa the Beautiful. When her mother died, the girl was eight years old. Dying, the merchant's wife called her daughter to her, pulled out a doll from under the blanket, gave it to her and said: - Listen, Vasilisushka! Remember and fulfill the last...

Once upon a time there was a man, he had a lot of sheep. In winter, a huge sheep lambed, and he took her from the yard to the hut with a lamb. Evening comes. The gentleman is coming, he asked to spend the night with him. He came under the window and asked: - Man, will you let me spend the night? - Aren't you going to play pranks at night? - Have mercy! Where would we...

Grandfather and grandmother lived. The grandfather had a daughter, and the woman had a daughter; both were old. The woman did not like her grandfather's daughter: everything used to scold her, poor thing, and mock her, and even, it happened, and incited her grandfather to gnaw on her daughter. Here, it used to be, both girls would go to gatherings, the woman’s daughter was all just ...

There lived a poor man. He did not know what to do so as not to disappear with his family from hunger. - There is no better craft than sculpting new pots and tying broken ones with wire! - he once said to his wife and decided to become a potter. So he was nicknamed - Gorshkovyaz. In the summer he sculpted clay pots, burned them, took them to the city...

There were two friends in the world who lived only by lies. One day a liar went to the pan to the kitchen, and hid behind the door remained. The cook treated the liar to cabbage rolls. At first he ate so that it crackled behind his ears, and when he had eaten, he began to scatter cabbage. - Is it a cabbage? - says the liar. - Here we have cabbage - ...

A mower mowed in the meadow. Tired and sat under a bush to rest. He took out a bag, untied it and began to chew bread. A hungry wolf comes out of the forest. He sees - under the bush the mower is sitting and eating something. The wolf approached him and asked: - What do you eat, man? “Bread,” replies the mower. - Is it tasty? - And what a delicious one! ...

The man mowed hay. Tired and sat down under a bush to rest. He took out his wallet and decided to have a bite. And then a wolf happened nearby. The wolf smelled food and left the forest. The wolf sees - the mower sits under a bush, has a bite. Approached him and asked: - What do you eat? - Bread. - Is it tasty? - Very. -Let me try. ...

A songwriter walked around the world. And the storyteller walked around the world. Somehow they met, they began to walk together. And so they agreed: one sings songs, the other tells fairy tales. Whoever earns what, divide in half. They came to one village, wrapped in a tavern, where the men were walking. Songwriter and began to sing songs. Merry sing...

Once upon a time, they say, animals and cattle did not have tails. Only one animal king - the lion - had a tail. It was bad for animals without tails. In winter, it’s still somehow, but summer will come - there is no salvation from flies and midges. What will drive them away? Not one, it happened, in the summer before death, gadflies and horseflies seized. Though the guards shout, ...

There lived a poor man with his wife. Their daughter was born. It is necessary to celebrate the homeland, but he has neither bread, nor bread. What to serve guests? The poor man went to the river for water. Scored full buckets, comes back. Look - a heifer lies in the bushes. Yes, so weak, poor, that she herself will not rise. The poor man brought water home ...

Once upon a time there lived a musician. He started playing from an early age. She used to graze oxen, cut off a vine, make a pipe for herself, and as soon as she plays, the oxen will stop plucking the grass - they will prick up their ears and listen. The birds in the forest will be quiet, even the frogs in the swamps will not croak. He will go to the night - it's fun there: lads and girls ...

In the old days, it was like this: when a father grows old, his son will take him to a remote forest and leave him there ... Once, his father's son took him to the forest. I feel sorry for his father - he loved him very much, but what can you do! If you're not lucky, people will laugh, old customs, they say, do not hold. They will also be driven out of the village ... He is going sad, and his father ...

Do you know where the bear came from? Before the bear was just like us, a man. There were few people then, and they lived in the forests. They hunted animals and birds there. In the summer they picked mushrooms and berries, dug the roots of plants and stocked them up for the winter. And most of all they stocked nuts and honey. There were many bees. And they walked...

• I got closer and closer to Prostokvashino New Year. And everyone rejoiced - and the dog, and the cat, and Uncle Fyodor himself. And the postman Pechkin walked sadly. He once said to Uncle Fyodor: - You feel good. There are a lot of you, as many as three, and you have more jackdaws. And I live alone, as if thrown into the trash. Your parents will come to you, but to me...

Once upon a time, - my grandfather lived with another wife. The grandfather had a daughter, and the woman had a daughter. Everyone knows how to live for a stepmother: if you turn over - a bit and if you don't trust - a bit. And whatever your own daughter does, they pat her on the head for everything: clever. The stepdaughter watered and fed the cattle, carried firewood and water to the hut, heated the stove, ...

The mother had two daughters: one was her own, the other was her husband. She loved her own very much, but she could not even look at her stepdaughter. And all because Marushka was more beautiful than her Olena. Marushka was unaware of her beauty and still could not understand why her stepmother would look at her in such a way that her eyebrows would frown. Olena knows herself dressing up ...

• I once met the New Year at the dacha, By twelve the arrow was moving ... And suddenly something exploded outside the window! Is it a bomb, I think, in my garden ?! I look: this is necessary! .. PLATE! And next to the plate is a creature. I immediately realized: MARSIAN! He has four arms and seven eyes, Under each he has a healthy bruise, ...

• It was snowing, and Santa Claus was walking in the snow. They walked slowly, talking animatedly. Having filled all the streets, Santa Clauses walked, and there was no end to them. The snow swirled and glistened; if you look closely, you can see shaggy eyebrows, long beards. Only faces are not visible at all, no matter how closely you look. This...

• Winter loves to visit everywhere - everywhere she is missing. This year I started playing at the Snow Queen's beloved aunt. And she pampers her, allows her to do what her niece wants in Lapland. And then sister Autumn became worried, it was already December, and there was still no Winter. I wrote together with Summer and Spring, they say, it's time to go to Russia already. “Winter was waiting, nature was waiting,” they attributed and put a smiley emoticon.

• In the same house lived two girls Needlewoman and Lenivitsa, and with them a nanny. The needlewoman was a smart girl: she got up early, herself, without a nanny, dressed, and getting out of bed, she got down to business: she stoked the stove, kneaded bread, chalked the hut, fed the rooster, and then went to the well for water. And Sloth between ...

Two frosts walked across the field, two siblings - frost Blue-nose and frost Red-nose. Frosts walk and walk, they praise each other. And the night is bright, bright. Spacious frost at will. And quietly, so quietly, as if there was no living soul left in the world. The frosts have moved from the field to the forest. They run, click, from a tree ...

Once upon a time there was an old Frost Blue Nose, and he had a young son - Frost Red Nose. Well, the young Frost Red Nose loved to boast! Only, it happened, and repeats: “Father is already old, he does his job poorly. And here I am - young and strong. As soon as I get down to business, I will immediately freeze everything around. Once he sees...

Two Frosts, two siblings, were walking around the open field, jumping from foot to foot, beating hand in hand. One Frost says to another: - Brother Frost - Crimson nose! How would we have fun - freeze people? Another answers him: - Brother Frost - Blue nose! If people freeze - it's not clean for us ...

Stories about winter for younger students. You can also read these stories to children aged 4 and over. These are instructive stories and tales about the winter forest, fox, bunnies, etc. These are stories and tales about good and evil.

What can a snowdrift tell about.

And so the winter ends. Do you want to remember what it was like: how often the blizzards swept, how the cold was replaced by thaws?

Take a shovel, cut the snowdrift in half. It is all striped, layered: a gray layer, then a white layer, white and gray, gray and white.

What can the white layer tell you? About the sky from which snowflakes fell. The more of them fell out, the thicker the white layer will be.

What will the gray layer tell you about? The fact that the old snow had time to get dirty, and the new, clean, did not fall out for a long time.

And the icy crust across the snowdrift? What will she tell you? About the thaw.

And a branch with dry leaves that is firmly frozen into a snowdrift? About the storm that plucked her from the tree.

So the whole winter the snowdrift kept records of the weather, and he will tell you everything, just know how to ask him.

Yes, hurry up to ask in time before it melts!

Old man-year-old.

Fairy tale mystery.

An old man came out. He began to wave his sleeve and let the birds go. Each bird has its own special name. The old one-year-old waved for the first time - and the first three birds flew. It blew cold, frost.

The old one-year-old waved a second time - and the second three flew. The snow began to melt, flowers appeared on the fields.

The old one-year-old waved a third time - the third trio flew. It became hot, stuffy, sultry. The peasants began to harvest rye.

The old one-year-old waved for the fourth time - and three more birds flew. A cold wind blew, frequent rain fell, and mists lay.

And the birds were not ordinary. Each bird has four wings. Each wing has seven feathers, each feather also has its own name. One half of the feather is white, the other is black. A bird will wave once - it will become light-light, it will wave another - it will become dark-dark.

Songs under the ice.

It happened in winter: my skis sang! I ran on skis on the lake, and the skis sang. They sang well, like birds.

And around the snow and frost. Nostrils stick together and teeth freeze.

The forest is silent, the lake is silent. The roosters in the village are silent. And the skis are singing!

And their song - like a stream, it flows, it rings. But it’s not the skis, in fact, that sing, where are they, wooden ones. Under the ice someone sings, right under my feet.

If I had gone then, the under-ice song would have remained a wonderful forest mystery. But I didn't leave...

I lay down on the ice and hung my head into the black hole.

During the winter, the water in the lake dried up, and the ice hung over the water like an azure ceiling. Where it hangs, and where it collapses, and steam curls from the dark gaps. But it's not the fish that sing with bird voices there, is it? Maybe there really is a stream there? Or maybe the icicles born from steam are ringing?

And the song is ringing. She is alive and clean, neither a stream, nor fish, nor icicles can sing like that.

Only one creature in the world can sing such a song - a bird ...

I hit the ski on the ice - the song stopped. I stood quietly - the song rang out again.

Then I slammed my ski on the ice with all my might. And just then, a miracle bird fluttered out of the dark abyss. She sat down on the edge of the hole and bowed to me three times.

— Hello, under-ice songbird!

The bird nodded again and sang an under-ice song in plain sight.

“But I know you!” - I said. - You are a dipper - a water sparrow!

Olyadka did not answer: he could only bow and nod. Again he darted under the ice, and his song thundered from there. So what if it's winter? Under the ice there is no wind, no frost, no hawk. Under the ice there is black water and a mysterious green twilight. There, if you whistle louder, everything will ring: the echo will rush, knocking on the icy ceiling, hung with ringing icicles. What would a dipper not sing!

Why don't we listen to him.

Bureau of Forest Services.

Cold February has come to the forest. He piled snowdrifts on the bushes, covered the trees with frost. And the sun, although it shines, does not warm.

Ferret says:

- Save yourself as much as you can!

And Magpie chirps:

"Every man for himself again?" Alone again? No to all together against a common misfortune! So everyone says about us that we only peck and squabble in the forest. It's even embarrassing...

Here the Hare got involved:

- That's right Magpie chirps. There is safety in numbers. I propose to create a Bureau of Forest Services. I, for example, can help partridges. Every day I break the snow on winter trees to the ground, let them peck seeds and greens after me - I don’t feel sorry. Write me, Soroka, to the Bureau at number one!

- There is a smart head in our forest! Magpie rejoiced. - Who is next?

- We're next! cried the crossbills. - We peel the cones on the trees, drop half the cones whole down. Use it, voles and mice, it's not a pity!

“A hare is a digger, crossbills are throwers,” Magpie wrote.

- Who is next?

“Write us down,” grumbled the beavers from their hut. - We piled so many aspens in the fall - enough for everyone. Come to us, moose, roe deer, hares, juicy aspen bark and branches to gnaw!

And it's gone, and it's gone!

Woodpeckers offer their hollows for the night, crows invite to carrion, crows promise to show the landfill. Magpie barely manages to write down.

The wolf also choked on the noise. He spun his ears, looked up with his eyes and said:

"Sign me up for the Bureau!"

- You, Volka, in the Bureau of Services? What do you want to do in it?

“I will serve as a watchman,” Wolf replies.

Who can you guard?

I can take care of everyone! Hares, moose and roe deer near aspens, partridges on greenery, beavers in huts. I am an experienced caretaker. Sheep guarded in the sheepfold, chickens in the chicken coop ...

- You are a robber from the forest road, not a watchman! Magpie screamed. - Pass, pass-metz, by! We know you. It’s me, Magpie, I’ll guard everyone in the forest from you: as soon as I see it, I’ll raise a cry! I’ll write down not you, but myself as a watchman in the Bureau: “Magpie is a watchman.” What am I, worse than others, or what?

So the bird-animals live in the forest. It happens, of course, that they live in such a way that only fluff and feathers fly. But sometimes they help each other out.

Anything can happen in the forest.

Forest thaw.

Oh, what a soft, warm thaw it was!.. Snowflakes swirled, and the forest smelled of spring. The hedgehog was sitting on the porch of his house, sniffing the air and smiling.

“It can’t be,” he thought, “that just yesterday the trees crackled in the forest and the angry Santa Claus creaked under the windows with his big boots, but today he is not at all! Where is he?"

And the Hedgehog began to figure out where Santa Claus could hide.

“If he climbed a pine tree,” the Hedgehog reasoned, “then somewhere under the pine tree there are his big boots. After all, even the Little Bear cannot climb a pine tree in felt boots!

If he climbed under the ice, - the Hedgehog continued to think, - then somewhere on the river there must be a hole and steam must come out of it. Because Santa Claus sits in felt boots at the bottom and breathes. And if he completely left the forest, I will definitely see his traces!

And the Hedgehog put on his skis and ran between the trees. But there were no felt boots under any tree, he did not see a single hole in the river and did not find any traces anywhere.

- Father Frost! shouted the Hedgehog. - Recall-and-is! ..

But it was quiet. Only snowflakes swirled around and somewhere far, far away the Woodpecker knocked.

The hedgehog stopped, closed his eyes and imagined a beautiful Woodpecker with red feathers and a long nose. The woodpecker sat on the top of a pine tree, from time to time threw its head back, squinted and, as if angry, banged its nose: knock! Splashed pine bark and, gently rustling, crumbled into snow ...

“Probably the Woodpecker knows where Santa Claus is,” thought the Hedgehog. “He sits high and can see everything.”

And he ran to the Woodpecker.

- Woodpecker! shouted the Hedgehog from afar. Have you seen Santa Claus?

- Knock Knock! - said the Woodpecker. - He left!

Where are his tracks?

The woodpecker hung his nose to the Hedgehog, squinted, looked at him and said:

And he left without a trace!

— How so? - the Hedgehog was surprised.

- It's very simple! A cloud floated up and sank low, low. Santa Claus first threw boots on him, then climbed himself and swam away ...

- Where? - asked the Hedgehog.

- On Kudykina mountain. Knock Knock! - said the Woodpecker.

And the Hedgehog, reassured, went home and on the way he imagined the snow-covered Kudykina Mountain, along which, probably, Santa Claus is now walking and creaking with his big felt boots.

Mikhail Prishvin "Birds under the snow"

A hazel grouse in the snow has two salvations: the first is to spend the night warm under the snow, and the second is that the snow drags with it various seeds from the trees to the ground for food for the hazel grouse.

Under the snow, the hazel grouse looks for seeds, makes moves there and windows up for air.

Sometimes you go skiing in the forest, you look - a head appeared and hid: this is a hazel grouse.

Not even two, but three rescues for a hazel grouse under the snow: warmth, food, and you can hide from a hawk.

The black grouse does not run under the snow, he would only have to hide from the weather.

Black grouse does not have big moves, like hazel grouses under the snow, but the arrangement of the apartment is also neat: in the back and a latrine, in front there is a hole above the head for air.

The gray partridge does not like to burrow in the snow and flies to spend the night in the village on the threshing floor. The partridge will spend the night in the village with the peasants and in the morning flies to feed on the same place. Partridge, according to my signs, has either lost her wildness, or is naturally stupid. The hawk notices her flights, and sometimes she is just about to fly out, and the hawk is already waiting for her on a tree.

Black grouse, I think, is much smarter than partridge.

Once it was with me in the forest. I'm going skiing red day, good frost. A large clearing opens before me, there are tall birches in the clearing, and on the birches the black grouse feed on their kidneys. I admired for a long time, but suddenly all the black grouse rushed down and buried themselves in the snow under the birches. At the same moment, a hawk appears, hits the place where the black grouse burrowed, and entered. But here he walks right above the black grouse, but he cannot guess and dig with his foot and grab it. I was very curious about this, I think: “If he walks, it means that he feels them under him, and the hawk’s mind is great, but there is no such thing as to guess and dig with his paw on some inch or two in the snow, which means that it’s not for him.” given."

Walks and walks.

I wanted to help the black grouse, and I began to hide the hawk.

The snow is soft, the ski does not make noise, but as soon as I started to go around the clearing with bushes, I suddenly fell into the mush up to my ear. I got out of the hole, of course, not without noise, and thought: "The hawk heard this and flew away." I got out and I don’t even think about the hawk, but when I drove around the clearing and looked out from behind the tree, the hawk right in front of me walks for a short shot over the heads of the black grouse.

I fired. He lay down. And the black grouse are so frightened by the hawk that they were not afraid of the shot.

I approached them, shied away with my ski, and they, one after another, began to fly out from under the snow; who has never seen - will die.

I've seen enough of everything in the forest, it's all simple for me, but I'm still amazed at the hawk: he's so smart, but in this place he turned out to be such a fool. But I consider the partridge the most foolish of all.

She spoiled herself among people on the threshing floors, she doesn’t have, like a black grouse, to, seeing a hawk, throw herself into the snow with all her might.

A partridge from a hawk will only hide its head in the snow, and its tail is all in sight.

The hawk takes her by the tail and drags her like a cook in a frying pan.

Mikhail Prishvin "Ants"

I was tired of hunting foxes, and I wanted to rest somewhere.

But the forest was littered with deep snow, and there was nowhere to sit down. By chance, my eyes fell on a tree, around which there was a giant anthill covered with snow.

I climb up, throw off the snow, rake this amazing collection of ants from needles, knots, forest motes from above and sit down in a warm hole in the anthill. The ants, of course, do not know anything about this: they sleep deep below.

A little higher than the anthill, where this time I was resting, someone tore off the bark from the tree, and the white wood, a rather wide ring, was covered with a thick layer of resin. The ring stopped the flow of juices, and the tree would inevitably die. It happens that a woodpecker makes such rings on trees, but he cannot do it so cleanly.

Most likely, I thought, someone needed the bark to make a box for picking wild berries.

Having had a good rest on the anthill, I left and accidentally returned to it when it became quite warm and the ants woke up and climbed up.

I saw some kind of dark spot on the light, wounded, resinous tree ring and took out the binoculars to look in more detail. It turned out that they were ants: for some reason they needed to break through the resin-coated wood upwards.

It takes a long time to observe to understand the ant business; many times I have observed in the forests that ants are constantly running along a tree, against which an anthill is leaning, but I did not pay attention to this: is an ant big enough to figure out persistently where and why it runs or climbs a tree! But now it turned out that not individual ants for some reason, but all ants, needed this free road up the trunk from the lower floor of the tree, perhaps to the highest. The resinous ring was an obstacle, and it brought the whole anthill to its feet.

Today, a general mobilization was announced in the anthill.

The whole anthill climbed up, and the entire state, in its entirety, gathered in a heavy moving layer around the tarred ring.

Scout ants walked ahead.

They tried to break through to the top and one by one got stuck and died in the tar.

The next scout used the corpse of his comrade to move forward.

In turn, it became a bridge for the next scout.

The offensive proceeded in a wide, deployed formation, and before our eyes the white ring darkened and turned black: it was the front ants who selflessly threw themselves into the tar and paved the way for others with their bodies.

So in about half an hour, the ants blackened the resinous ring and ran freely upstairs on this concrete to do their business. One band of Ants ran up, the other down to and fro. And the work on this living bridge began to boil, as if on a bark.

Konstantin Ushinsky "The Leprosy of the Old Woman-Winter"

The old woman-winter got angry, she decided to kill every breath from the world.

First of all, she began to get to the birds: they bothered her with their cry and squeak.

Winter blew cold, tore the leaves from the forests and oak forests and scattered them along the roads. There is nowhere for the birds to go; they began to gather in flocks, to think a thought. Gathered, shouted and flew for high mountains, beyond the blue seas, to warm countries. There was a sparrow, and he huddled under the eaves.

Winter sees that she cannot catch up with the birds: she attacked the animals. She covered the fields with snow, covered the forests with snowdrifts, dressed the trees with ice crust and sends frost after frost. The frosts are getting worse one another, they jump from tree to tree, crackle and click, scare the animals. The animals were not afraid: some have warm fur coats, others hid in deep holes; a squirrel in a hollow gnaws nuts, a bear in a den sucks its paw; a hare, jumping, warms up, and horses, cows, lambs have long been chewing ready-made hay in warm barns, drinking warm swill.

Winter is more angry - it gets to the fish: it sends frost after frost, one more fiercely than the other.

Frosts run briskly, they tap loudly with hammers: without wedges, without shackles on lakes, bridges are built along rivers. Rivers and lakes froze, but only from above, and the fish all went deeper: under the ice roof it is even warmer.

- Well, wait, - thinks winter, - I will catch people, and frost after frost will send, one more angrier than the other.

The frosts have clouded the patterns of the windows in the windows; they knock on the walls and on the doors, so that the logs burst. And people flooded the stoves, baked hot pancakes for themselves, and laughed at the winter. It happens that someone goes to the forest for firewood - he will put on a sheepskin coat, felt boots, warm mittens, and how he starts waving an ax, even sweat will break through. Along the roads, as if laughing at winter, the carts stretched: steam pours from the horses, cabbies stamp their feet, pat their mittens. They twitch their shoulders, praise the frosts.

It seemed most offensive to winter that even small children - and they are not afraid of it! They go skating and sledding, play snowballs, make women, build mountains, pour water on them, and even frost, they call: “Come help!”

Winter will pinch with the anger of one boy by the ear, another by the nose, they will even turn white, and the boy will grab the snow, let's rub it - and his face will flare up like fire.

Winter sees that she can’t take anything, she cried with anger. From the eaves, winter tears dripped ... it can be seen that spring is not far away!

Konstantin Ushinsky "Four Wishes"

Mitya rode on a sledge from an icy mountain and skated on a frozen river, ran home ruddy, cheerful and said to his father: “How fun it is in winter!” I wish it were all winter.

“Write down your wish in my pocket book,” said the father.

Mitya wrote.

Spring came.

Mitya ran plenty of colorful butterflies across the green meadow, picked flowers, ran to his father and said:

What a beauty this spring is! I wish it were all spring.

Father again took out a book and ordered Mitya to write down his wish.

It's summer.

Mitya and his father went to haymaking.

The boy had fun all day long: he fished, picked berries, tumbled in fragrant hay, and in the evening he said to his father:

"I've had a lot of fun today!" I wish there was no end to summer.

And this desire of Mitya was written down in the same book.

Autumn has come.

In the garden they picked fruits - ruddy apples and yellow pears.

Mitya was delighted and said to his father:

Autumn is the best of all seasons!

Then the father took out his notebook and showed the boy that he said the same thing about spring, and about winter, and about summer.

Georgy Skrebitsky "White coat"

It didn't snow for a long time that winter. Rivers and lakes have long been covered with ice, but there is still no snow.

The winter forest without snow seemed gloomy and dull. All the leaves have fallen from the trees, migratory birds flew south, not a single bird squeaks anywhere; only a cold wind whistles among the bare icy boughs.

Once I was walking with the guys through the forest, we were returning from a neighboring village. We went out into the forest clearing.

Suddenly we see - in the middle of a clearing above a large bush crows are circling. They croak, fly around him, then they will fly up, then they will sit on the ground. They must have found some food there.

They started getting closer. Crows noticed us - some flew off to the side, sat down in the trees, while others did not want to fly away, so they circled overhead.

We went up to the bush, we look - something turns white under it, and what - through the frequent branches and we can’t make out.

I parted the branches, I looked - a hare, white-white as snow.

He huddled under the very bush, clung to the ground, lies not moving.

Everything around is gray - and the earth, and fallen leaves, and the hare among them turns white.

That's why he caught the eye of the crows - he dressed in a white fur coat, but there was no snow, which means that he, white, had nowhere to hide. Let's try to catch him alive!

I slipped my hand under the branches, quietly, carefully, and immediately slammed behind the ears - and pulled it out from under the bush!

The hare is beating in his hands, he wants to escape. We just look - one of his legs somehow hangs strangely. They touched her, but she was broken! It means that the crows beat him badly. If we had not come on time, perhaps we would have scored completely.

I brought the rabbit home. Dad took out a bandage, cotton wool from the first-aid kit, bandaged the broken leg of the hare and put it in a box.

Mom put hay, carrots, a bowl of water there. So we have a bunny and stayed to live.

Lived for a whole month. His leg had completely grown together, he even began to jump out of the box and was not at all afraid of me. He jumps out, runs around the room, and as soon as one of the guys comes to me, he hides under the bed.

While the hare lived at our house, and the snow fell, white, fluffy, like a hare's fur coat. It is easy for a hare to hide in it. In the snow you will not notice it soon.

“Well, now you can let him go back into the forest,” dad once told us.

So we did - we took the hare to the nearest forest, said goodbye to him and released him into the wild.

The morning was quiet, the night before poured a lot of snow. The forest became white, shaggy.

In an instant, our bunny in the snow-covered bushes disappeared.

That's when he needed a white coat!

K. V. Lukashevich

She appeared muffled, white, cold.
- Who are you? the children asked.
- I - the season - winter. I brought snow with me and will soon throw it on the ground. He will cover everything with a white fluffy blanket. Then my brother will come - Santa Claus and freeze the fields, meadows and rivers. And if the guys start acting naughty, they will freeze their hands, feet, cheeks and noses.
- Oh oh oh! What a bad winter! What a terrible Santa Claus! the children said.
- Wait, children ... But then I will give you skiing from the mountains, skates and sledges. And then your favorite Christmas will come with a cheerful Christmas tree and Santa Claus with gifts. Don't you love winters?

kind girl

K. V. Lukashevich

It was a harsh winter. Everything was covered with snow. Sparrows had a hard time from this. The poor things could not find food anywhere. Sparrows flew around the house and chirped plaintively.
The kind girl Masha took pity on the sparrows. She began to collect bread crumbs, and every day poured them at her porch. The sparrows flew in to feed and soon ceased to be afraid of Masha. So the kind girl fed the poor birds until spring.

Winter

Frost bound the earth. Rivers and lakes are frozen. Everywhere lies white fluffy snow. Children are happy with winter. It's nice to ski on fresh snow. Seryozha and Zhenya are playing snowballs. Liza and Zoya are sculpting snowman.
Only animals have a hard time in the winter cold. Birds fly closer to housing.
Guys, help our little friends in winter. Make bird feeders.

There was Volodya on the Christmas tree

Daniil Kharms, 1930

There was Volodya on the Christmas tree. All the children danced, and Volodya was so small that he could not even walk.
They put Volodya in an armchair.
Here Volodya saw a gun: "Give it! Give it!" - screams. And he can’t say what “give”, because he is so small that he still doesn’t know how to speak. But Volodya wants everything: he wants an airplane, he wants a car, he wants a green crocodile. Want everything!
"Give! Give!" - shouts Volodya.
They gave Volodya a rattle. Volodya took the rattle and calmed down. All the children are dancing around the Christmas tree, and Volodya is sitting in an armchair and ringing with a rattle. Volodya liked the rattle very much!

Last year I was at the Christmas tree with my friends and girlfriends

Vanya Mokhov

Last year I was at the Christmas tree with my friends and girlfriends. It was a lot of fun. On the Christmas tree at Yashka - he played tag, on the Christmas tree at Shurka - he played blind man's buff, on the Christmas tree at Ninka - he looked at pictures, on the Christmas tree at Volodya - he danced in a round dance, on the Christmas tree at Lizaveta - he ate chocolates, on the Christmas tree at Pavlusha - he ate apples and pears.
And this year I will go to the Christmas tree to school - it will be even more fun there.

snowman

There lived a snowman. He lived on the edge of the forest. It was covered by children who came running here to play and sled. They made three lumps of snow, put them on top of each other. Instead of eyes, two coals were inserted into the snowman, and a carrot was inserted instead of a nose. A bucket was put on the snowman's head, and his hands were made from old brooms. One boy liked the snowman so much that he gave him a scarf.

The children were called home, and the snowman was left alone, standing in the cold winter wind. Suddenly he saw that two birds flew to the tree under which he was standing. One big one with a long nose began to peck a tree, and the other began to look at the snowman. The snowman was scared: "What do you want to do with me?"; And the bullfinch, and it was him, replies: “I don’t want to do anything with you, I’ll just eat a carrot now” ;. "Oh, oh, don't eat carrots, that's my nose. Look, there's a feeder hanging on that tree, the children left a lot of food there." The bullfinch thanked the snowman. Since then, they have become friends.

Hello winter!

So, she came, the long-awaited winter! It's good to run through the frost on the first winter morning! The streets, yesterday still dull in autumn, are completely covered with white snow, and the sun shimmers in it with a blinding brilliance. A bizarre pattern of frost lay on shop windows and tightly closed windows of houses, hoarfrost covered the branches of poplars. If you look along the street, which stretches out like an even ribbon, if you look close around you, everything is the same everywhere: snow, snow, snow. Occasionally a rising breeze tingles the face and ears, but how beautiful everything is around! What gentle, soft snowflakes smoothly swirl in the air. No matter how prickly frost, it is also pleasant. Isn't it because we all love winter, that, just like spring, it fills the chest with an exciting feeling. Everything is alive, everything is bright in the transformed nature, everything is full of invigorating freshness. It is so easy to breathe and so good in the soul that you involuntarily smile and want to say in a friendly way to this wonderful winter morning: "Hello, winter!";

"Hello, long-awaited, vigorous winter!";

The day was soft and misty. The reddish sun hung low over long, snowfield-like stratus clouds. Frost-covered pink trees stood in the garden. The vague shadows on the snow were drenched in the same warm light.

snowdrifts

(From the story "Nikita's Childhood";)

The wide yard was all covered with shining, white soft snow. Blue in it are deep human and frequent dog tracks. The air, frosty and thin, pinched in my nose, pricked my cheeks with needles. The carriage house, sheds and barnyards stood squat, covered with white hats, as if rooted in snow. Like glass, traces of runners ran from the house across the entire yard.
Nikita ran down the crunchy steps from the porch. Below was a brand new pine bench with a bast twisted rope. Nikita examined it - it was made firmly, tried it - it glided well, put the bench on his shoulder, grabbed a shovel, thinking that he would need it, and ran along the road along the garden to the dam. There stood huge, almost to the sky, wide willows, covered with hoarfrost - each branch was exactly made of snow.
Nikita turned to the right, towards the river, and tried to follow the road, in the footsteps of others. On the steep banks of the Chagra River, large fluffy snowdrifts had accumulated these days. In other places they hung like capes over the river. Just stand on such a cape - and he will hoot, sit down, and a mountain of snow will roll down in a cloud of snow dust.
To the right the river wound like a bluish shadow between the white and fluffy fields. To the left, above the very steep, blackened huts, sticking out the cranes of the village of Sosnovki. High blue haze rose from the rooftops and melted away. On a snowy cliff, where stains and stripes turned yellow from the ashes that had been raked out of the stoves today, small figures were moving. These were Nikita's friends - boys from "our end"; villages. And further on, where the river bent, you could hardly see other boys, "Kon-chan", very dangerous.
Nikita threw down the shovel, lowered the bench into the snow, sat astride it, firmly grasped the rope, kicked off with his feet twice, and the bench itself went down the mountain. The wind whistled in my ears, snow dust rose from both sides. Down, all down like an arrow. And suddenly, where the snow broke off over the steep, the bench swept through the air and slid onto the ice. She went quieter, quieter and became.
Nikita laughed, climbed down from the bench and dragged it up the hill, bogging down to the knee. When he climbed ashore, not far away, on a snowy field, he saw a black, taller than human figure, as it seemed, the figure of Arkady Ivanovich. Nikita grabbed a shovel, threw himself on a bench, flew down and ran across the ice to the place where the snowdrifts hung like a cape over the river.
Climbing under the very cape, Nikita began to dig a cave. The work was easy - the snow was cut with a shovel. Having dug out the little cave, Nikita climbed into it, dragged the bench in and began to fill up with clods from the inside. When the wall was laid, a blue half-light spilled into the cave - it was cozy and pleasant. Nikita sat and thought that none of the boys had such a wonderful bench - Nikita! Where did you fail? he heard the voice of Arkady Ivanovich.
Nikita... looked into the gap between the clods. Below, on the ice, Arkady Ivanovich stood with his head thrown back.
- Where are you, robber?
Arkady Ivanovich adjusted his spectacles and climbed to the cave, but immediately got stuck up to the waist;
Get out, I'll get you out of there anyway. Nikita was silent. Arkady Ivanovich tried to climb
higher, but bogged down again, put his hands in his pockets and said:
- You don't want to, you don't have to. Stay. The fact is that my mother received a letter from Samara ... However, goodbye, I'm leaving - What letter? asked Nikita.
- Yeah! So you are still here.
- Tell me, from whom is the letter?
- A letter about the arrival of some people for the holidays.
Snow clods immediately flew from above. Nikita's head popped out of the cave. Arkady Ivanovich laughed merrily.

Buran

A snowy white cloud, huge as the sky, covered the entire horizon, and the last light of the red, burnt evening dawn was quickly covered with a thick veil. Suddenly night fell... the storm came with all its fury, with all its horrors. The desert wind blew up in the open air, blew up the snowy steppes like swan fluff, threw them up to the sky ... Everything was dressed in white darkness, impenetrable, like the darkness of the darkest autumn night!

Everything merged, everything mixed up: the earth, the air, the sky turned into an abyss of boiling snowy dust, which blinded the eyes, took the breath, roared, whistled, howled, groaned, beat, ruffled, twirled from all sides, twisted around like a kite from above and below, and strangled everything he came across.

The heart drops in the most intimidating person, the blood freezes, stops from fear, and not from cold, because the cold during snowstorms is significantly reduced. So terrible is the sight of the indignation of northern winter nature...

The storm raged from hour to hour. It raged all night and all the next day, so there was no ride. Deep ravines became high mounds...

Finally, the excitement of the snowy ocean began to subside little by little, which continues even then, when the sky is already shining with a cloudless blue.

Another night passed. The violent wind died down, the snows subsided. The steppes presented the appearance of a stormy sea, suddenly frozen over ... The sun rolled out into a clear sky; its rays played on the wavy snows...

Winter

The real winter has come. The ground was covered with a snow-white carpet. Not a single dark spot remained. Even bare birches, alders and mountain ash were covered with hoarfrost, like silvery fluff. They stood, covered with snow, as if they had put on an expensive warm coat ...

It was the first snow

It was about eleven o'clock in the evening, the first snow had recently fallen, and everything in nature was under the rule of this young snow. The air smelled of snow, and the snow crunched softly underfoot. The earth, the roofs, the trees, the benches on the boulevards - everything was soft, white, young, and this house looked different from yesterday. The lanterns burned brighter, the air was clearer...

Farewell to summer

(abbreviated)

One night I woke up with a strange sensation. I thought I went deaf in my sleep. I lay with my eyes open, listened for a long time, and finally realized that I had not gone deaf, but simply that an extraordinary silence had fallen outside the walls of the house. Such silence is called "dead";. The rain died, the wind died, the noisy, restless garden died. All you could hear was the cat snoring in his sleep.
I opened my eyes. White and even light filled the room. I got up and went to the window - behind the panes everything was snowy and silent. In the foggy sky, a lone moon stood at a dizzying height, and a yellowish circle shimmered around it.
When did the first snow fall? I approached the walkers. It was so bright that the arrows were clearly black. They showed two hours. I fell asleep at midnight. This means that in two hours the earth has changed so unusually, in two short hours the fields, forests and gardens have been fascinated by the cold.
Through the window I saw how big gray bird sat on a maple branch in the garden. The branch swayed, snow fell from it. The bird slowly got up and flew away, and the snow continued to fall like glass rain falling from a Christmas tree. Then everything was quiet again.
Reuben woke up. He looked out the window for a long time, sighed and said:
- The first snow is very befitting the earth.
The earth was ornate, like a shy bride.
And in the morning everything crunched around: frozen roads, leaves on the porch, black nettle stalks sticking out from under the snow.
Grandfather Mitriy came to tea and congratulated me on the first trip.
- So the earth was washed, - he said, - with snow water from a silver trough.
- Where did you get, Mitrich, such words? Reuben asked.
- Is there something wrong? grandfather chuckled. - My mother, the deceased, said that in ancient times, beauties washed themselves with the first snow from a silver jug ​​and therefore their beauty never sluggish.
It was difficult to stay at home at first. We went to the forest lakes. Grandfather walked us to the edge. He also wanted to visit the lakes, but "did not let the ache in his bones" ;.
It was solemn, light and quiet in the forests.
The day seemed to be dozing. Lonely snowflakes occasionally fell from the cloudy high sky. We carefully breathed on them, and they turned into pure drops of water, then became cloudy, froze and rolled to the ground like beads.
We wandered through the forests until dusk, walked around familiar places. Flocks of bullfinches were sitting, ruffled, on rowan trees covered with snow ... In some places in the clearings, birds flew and squeaked plaintively. The sky overhead was very bright, white, and towards the horizon it thickened, and its color resembled lead. From there were slow snow clouds.
It grew darker and quieter in the forests, and finally a thick snow began to fall. He melted in the black water of the lake, tickled his face, powdered the forest with gray smoke. Winter has taken over the land...

Winter night

Night has come in the forest.

Frost taps on the trunks and branches of thick trees, light silver hoarfrost falls in flakes. In the dark high sky, bright winter stars visibly scattered...

But even in the frosty winter night, the hidden life in the forest continues. Here the frozen branch crunched and broke. It ran under the trees, bouncing softly, a white hare. Then something hooted and suddenly terribly laughed: an owl screamed somewhere, caresses howled and fell silent, ferrets hunt mice, owls silently fly over snowdrifts. Like a fabulous sentry, a big-headed gray owlet sat on a bare bough. In the darkness of the night, he alone hears and sees life hidden from people walking in the winter forest.

Aspen

Beautiful aspen forest in winter. Against the background of dark firs, a thin lace of bare aspen branches intertwines.

In the hollows of old thick aspens, nocturnal and diurnal birds, naughty squirrels lay down their stocks for the winter. From thick logs, people hollowed out light shuttle boats, made troughs. White hares feed on the bark of young aspens in winter. The bitter bark of aspens is gnawed by moose.

You used to walk through the forest, and suddenly, unexpectedly, unexpectedly, with a noise, a heavy black grouse will fly off and fly. A white hare will jump out from under your feet and run.

Silver flashes

Short, gloomy December day. Snowy twilight flush with the windows, muddy dawn at ten o'clock in the morning. During the day, he chirps, drowning in snowdrifts, a flock of kids returning from school, creaks a cart with firewood or hay - and evening! In the frosty sky outside the village, silver flashes begin to dance and shimmer - the northern lights.

On sparrow's gallop

A little - just a day after the New Year was added to the sparrow lope. And the sun had not yet warmed - like a bear, on all fours, crawling along the spruce tops across the river.

Winter is here, the magical time of the year. All the paths were covered with a white fluffy carpet. It shines under the rays of the sun and pleases the eye.

The winter forest is quiet and incredibly beautiful. The birds don't sing anymore. Bears and hedgehogs fell asleep before the start of winter.

Mini essay about winter No. 2: "Winter has come"

The real winter has come. There are frosts. The whole neighborhood is covered with a snow carpet. The river and the pond are firmly iced over. As if in a fairy tale, trees shine with silver.

We took a sled and went for a walk in the yard. There, the neighbor's guys sculpted a snowman. We all started playing snowballs together. The guys offered to go sledding on a slippery snow hill. We had a lot of fun!

Then our hands froze, and we ran home. Cold in winter!

In the evening, a strong blizzard began. Trees swayed and crackled. It's scary to show your nose to the street. It's good that we're at home. We are warm and not afraid of any frost!

Composition about winter No. 3: “Good in winter”

Here comes the winter. There are severe frosts, a cold wind blows. A blizzard swept up, swept all the tracks. The fields and hills were covered with a fluffy white carpet. Low trees and bushes were covered with snow.

And with what bizarre patterns the frost adorned the windows of houses! No wonder they came up with a riddle about him: without arms, without legs, but he can draw.

The children miss walking. They can't wait for the blizzard to end. They ask their parents to let them go for a walk in the yard.

But now the blizzard has subsided. Making their way through the high snowdrifts, the children joyfully run to the street. Playing snowballs, they throw snowballs at each other. Dodge hits and fall. They laugh! Cheeks burn like bulk apples, cilia and eyebrows in hoarfrost.

After lunch, the children took their skis and skates and ran to the pond. The water is frozen with a thick layer of ice, which means you can run on skates. Kids rush on a sled along a smooth snow-covered hill. Teenagers go skiing. Everyone has fun!

Winter Tale #4: "Winter Fun"

Winter came. It's freezing weather. It's cold outside. The trees are covered with snow fringe.

But children always have fun, especially when there is a lot of snow. You can fall and wallow in the snow without fear of getting dirty. You just need to dress warmly so as not to freeze.

I put on a ski tracksuit, a jacket, put on boots. He pulled a fur hat over his head and tied a woolen scarf around his neck. He put on warm gloves. I took a new sled and ran up the hill to ride.

Many children from our yard gathered on the street. We ran up a smooth snow-covered hill, near which there was a slippery skating rink. There we went sledding and skating for a long time. The kids were playing snowballs.

Then they all made a snowman together. The snow was loose, almost wet, so it wasn't difficult. The kids were very happy that they also participated in this lesson.

As expected, we rolled up three snowballs and put them on top of each other. When the snowman was almost ready, I brought an old bucket from home to put on his head. The neighbor's boy brought out a carrot and stuck it in place of his nose. Two coals became the eyes of the snowman, a small flexible twig became a smiling mouth.

The snowman turned out great! No worse than in cartoons or pictures. The guys and I took a photo next to him as a keepsake.

In the evening it snowed again. We watched in fascination as fluffy snowflakes swirled in the air. How beautiful are these fragile creations of nature! It turns out that all snowflakes are different, not similar to each other. But this is noticeable only upon close examination.

It was already dark when I got home. A little tired, cold and hungry, but very satisfied.

The day went well. Good winter fun!

Composition about winter No. 5: “Description of winter”

Winter is an amazing time of the year. Covered with a white blanket, nature, as if in a fairy tale, plunged into a long, deep sleep. The sorceress-winter enchanted, bewitched the forest. All the trees stretch bare crystal branches to the blue sky. Only spruces and pines are green, but the oak has not thrown off its summer attire. Its foliage only turned yellow and darkened. The lower branches of the oak spread like a tent over the clearing. The snow had packed into the deep wrinkles of the bark. The thick trunk seems to be stitched with silver threads. From a distance it seems that it is a brave hero in bronze chain mail, the all-powerful guardian of the forest. The other trees parted respectfully to let the older brethren unfold in mighty force. A winter wind will fly in, a huge and majestic oak will ring with bronze foliage, but will not bow even before a strong storm.

In winter, familiar landscapes are given new colors by the snow. At dusk, it is blue, under the silvery rays of the moon it glows with a mysterious brilliance, plays with multi-colored sparks. At dawn, the snow turns pink from the scarlet dawn. And even the usual forest colors next to the changeable snowy whiteness look different.

Winter is different. You just need to take a look. It is both cold and with a thaw, blizzard and with a drop, snowy and with the sun. A winter day is sometimes quiet, frosty and sunny, sometimes gloomy and foggy, sometimes with a howling cold wind and a snow blizzard. And how beautiful a winter morning, early, inaudible, with frost, sun and sparkling snow. And the evening is so long, thoughtful. Nature seems to be waiting for the appearance of a fairy tale.

Composition about winter No. 6: “Winter morning”

So, she came - the long-awaited winter! It's good to run through the frost on the first winter morning! The streets, yesterday still dull in autumn, are completely covered with burning snow, and the sun shimmers in it with a blinding brilliance. A bizarre pattern of frost lay on shop windows and tightly closed windows of houses, hoarfrost covered the branches of poplars. Whether you look along the street, stretched out as an even ribbon, whether you look close, look around you - everything is the same everywhere: snow, snow, snow ...

Occasionally a rising breeze tingles the face and ears, but how beautiful everything is around! What gentle, soft swirl smoothly in the air! No matter how prickly frost, it is also pleasant. Isn't it because we all love winter, that, just like spring, it fills the chest with an exciting feeling.

Everything is alive, everything is bright in the transformed nature, everything is full of invigorating freshness. It’s so easy to breathe and so good in your soul that you involuntarily smile, and you want to say in a friendly way to this wonderful winter morning: “Hello, long-awaited winter, cheerful!”