作者:Admin2021-12-13 16:24:26

导读:暴风雨,拼音bo fēng yǔ,是指伴有雨的狂风天气。下面是作文录小编整理的内容,希望对你们有帮助! 篇一:描写暴风雨的英语日记 昨天早上,天气非常好,可到了下午,天气就像娃娃... 如果觉得还不错,就继续查看以下内容吧!


  暴风雨,拼音bào fēng yǔ,是指伴有雨的狂风天气。下面是作文录小编整理的内容,希望对你们有帮助!



  Yesterday morning, the weather was very good, but in the afternoon, the weather was like a baby's face, saying that change will change. In a twinkling of an eye, it rained heavily. My mother and I got off the car and stepped into the water with one foot. These rains hit the ground and people like bullets.


  The rainstorm is hard!


  Yesterday, it was sunny, but when it was about 5 o'clock in the afternoon, the sky turned to black. There were many dark clouds and it started to blow. After a little while, it began to thunder and lightening appeared. I was frightened. It seemed that the sky was badly angry and it wanted to punish the people in the earth. And then, it rained heavily. It looked like there was someone pouring the water in the sky. The rain lasted about fifty minutes.




  A few days ago, I had to go home in the afternoon because I had something to do, but I had no intention of going home on the second afternoon. But the God did not give me any strength at all. At this time, the biggest and longest rain in summer was the most dislike thing. Because the rain was too heavy, the wires were suck, and with the rain and power failure, it lasted for a day, and finally, no one came down in the evening. I planned to go home second days later, and then I got up again in the morning. Rain, so accompanied by another day,the next morning, there is a little rain, but not big, intend to go home, the result is no car,another day, so, I inexplicably stayed outside for three days,the fourth day finally after the rain, but still no car, so I tried every way to get on the car, finally back home.


  The rainstorm is really suck.


  It begins when a feeling of stillness creeps into my consciousness. Every thing has suddenly gone quiet. Birds do not chirp. Leaves do not rustle. Insects do not sing.


  The air that has been hot all day becomes heavy. It hangs over the trees, presses the heads of the flowers to the ground, sits on my shoulders. With a vague feeling of uneasiness I move to the window. There, in the west, lies the answer - cloud has piled on cloud to form a ridge of mammoth while towers, rearing against blue sky.


  Their piercing whiteness is of brief duration. Soon the marshmallow rims flatten to anvil tops, and the clouds reveal their darker nature. They impose themselves before the late-afternoon sun, and the day darkens early. Then a gust of wind ships the dust along the road, chill warning of what is to come.


  In the house a door shuts with a bang, curtains billow into the room. I rush to close the windows, empty the clothesline, secure the patio furnishings. Thunder begins to grumble in the distance.


  The first drops of rain are huge. They splat into the dust and imprint the windows with individual signatures. They plink on the vent pipe and plunk on the patio roof. Leaves shudder under their weight before rebounding, and sidewalk wears a coat of shiny spots.


  The rhythm accelerates; plink follows plunk faster and faster until the sound is a roll of drums and the individual drops become an army marching over fields and rooftops. Now the first bolt of lightning stabs the earth. It is heaven's exclamation point. The storm is here!


  In spite of myself, I jump at the following crack of thunder. It rattles the windowpane and sends the dog scratching to get under the bed. The next bolt is even closer. It raises the hair on the back of my neck, and I take an involuntary step away from the window.


  The rain now becomes a torrent, flung capriciously by rising wind. Together they batter the trees and level the grasses. Water streams off roofs and out of rain spouts. It pounds against the window in such a steady wash that I am sightless. There is only water. How can so much fall so fast? How could the clouds have supported this vast weight? How can the earth endure beneath it?


  Pacing through the house from window to window, I am moved to openmouthed wonder. Look how the lilac bends under the assault, how the day lilies are flattened, how the hillside steps are a new made waterfall! Now hailstones thump upon the roof. They bounce white against the grass and splash into the puddle. I think of the vegetable garden, the fruit trees, the crops in the fields; but, thankfully, the hailstones are not enough in numbers or size to do real damage. Not this time.


  From this storm is already beginning to pass. The tension is released from the atmosphere, the curtains of rain let in more light. The storm has spend most of its energy, and what is left will be expended on the countryside to the east.


  I am drawn outside while the rain still falls. All around, there is a cool and welcome feeling. I breathe deeply and watch the sun's rays streaks through breaking clouds. One ray catches the drops that form on the edge of the roof, and I am treated to a row of tiny, quivering colors - my private rainbows.


  I pick my way through the west grass, my feet sinking into the saturated soil. The creek in the gully runs bank - full of brown water, but the small lakes and puddles are already disappearing into the earth. Every leaf, brick, single, and blade of grass is fresh-washed and shining.


  Like the land, I am renewed, my spirits cleansed. I feel an infinite peace. Fro a time I have forgotten the worries and irritations I am nurturing before. They have been washed away by the glories of the storm.



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