The winter lasted so long that everyone no longer hoped to wait for the warmth.

- Oh, oh, oh! - Grass sighed under the snow. - How long can you sleep?! Under the snow, of course, it is warm, but boring. Spring would sooner come. Everyone would see how tender, fresh, bright green I am!

- And I dream of seeing the sun! - Snowdrop squeaked in a thin voice. “Even though I’m small, I’m strong, seasoned, and I’m not afraid of frost.” It’s time for me to break through the snow to show everyone that spring has come. People will see me and be happy. For them, I am the first herald of spring.

The Bear stirred in the den, opened one eye - it was dark, looked out of the den - snow.

- I’ve already laid down all my sides! - Mishka growled. “I’m emaciated, I’ve eaten all my fat reserves.” There's nothing else to eat. I'm tired of sucking my paw. When will spring come?!

Hamster woke up from the bear's roar.

- What's happened? Why does the Bear growl? Is it already spring? - Hamster shouted sleepily. - And I haven’t run out of supplies yet. I have brought so many of them into the mink for the winter that it will last until summer.

He looked out of the hole, and it was winter outside.

“I just woke up in vain,” grumbled the Hamster, “there’s no spring.” You can still take a nap.

The Marmot was fast asleep in a hole nearby. He never wakes up until spring. No matter how much Hamster shouted to him, he could not wake up his friend.

But then a large black Rook sat down on a birch branch.

- Forest dwellers! Stop sleeping! I brought you spring! - he shouted throughout the forest. - She's already very close. Meet her!

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief and began to prepare for the meeting.

Questions and tasks

- Why did all the inhabitants of the forest want spring to come?

- What was Grass grieving about under the snow?

- Why did the Bear grumble angrily?

- Why didn’t Hamster want spring to come?

- Which of the forest inhabitants was the Hamster unable to wake up?

—Who brought the first news of spring to the forest inhabitants?

- Imagine yourself as forest dwellers at the end of winter and role-play the fairy tale.

- Show how Grass and Snowdrop spent the winter, and then the sun warmed up, they looked out from under the snow, were happy about the sun, and began to grow; We were a little cold from the morning frosts, but then we warmed up.

— Draw a forest in early spring.

- Come up with a continuation of the fairy tale. Who else woke up from hibernation? Who already had cubs in winter? Who didn't sleep all winter and waited for spring the most?

K. Ushinsky “Morning Rays”

The red sun floated into the sky and began sending out its golden rays everywhere - waking up the earth.

The first ray flew and hit the lark. The lark started, fluttered out of the nest, rose high, high and sang its silver song: “Oh, how good it is in the fresh morning air! How good! How fun!”

The second beam hit the bunny. The bunny twitched his ears and hopped merrily across the dewy meadow: he ran to get some juicy grass for breakfast.

The third beam hit the chicken coop. The rooster flapped his wings and sang: “Ku-ka-re-ku!” The chickens flew away from their infestations, clucked, and began to rake away the rubbish and look for worms.

The fourth ray hit the hive. A bee crawled out of its wax cell, sat on the window, spread its wings and “zoom-zoom-zoom!” - flew off to collect honey from fragrant flowers.

The fifth ray hit the little lazy boy in the nursery: it hit him right in the eyes, and he turned on the other side and fell asleep again.

I. Turgenev “Sparrow”

I was returning from hunting and walking along the garden alley. The dog ran ahead of me.

Suddenly she slowed down her steps and began to sneak, as if sensing game in front of her.

I looked along the alley and saw a young sparrow with yellowness around its beak and down on its head. He fell from the nest (the wind strongly shook the birch trees of the alley) and sat motionless, helplessly spreading his barely sprouted wings.

My dog ​​was slowly approaching him, when suddenly, falling from a nearby tree, an old black-breasted sparrow fell like a stone in front of her muzzle - and all disheveled, distorted, with a desperate and pitiful squeak, he jumped a couple of times in the direction of the toothy open mouth.

He rushed to save, he shielded his brainchild... but his whole small body trembled with horror, his voice grew wild and hoarse, he froze, he sacrificed himself!

What a huge monster the dog must have seemed to him! And yet he could not sit on his high, safe branch... A force stronger than his will threw him out of there.

My Trezor stopped, backed away... Apparently, he recognized this power.

I hastened to call the embarrassed dog back and left in awe.

Yes, don't laugh. I was in awe of that little heroic bird, of her loving impulse.

Love, I thought, is stronger than death and the fear of death. Only by her, only by love does life hold and move.

K. Ushinsky “Swallow”

In the fall, the boy wanted to destroy the swallow’s nest stuck under the roof, in which the owners were no longer there: sensing the approach of cold weather, they flew away.

“Don’t ruin the nest,” the father said to the boy, “in the spring the swallow will fly again, and she will be pleased to find her former house.”

The boy obeyed his father.

Winter passed, and at the end of April a pair of sharp-winged, beautiful birds, cheerful and chirping, flew in and began to fly around the old nest.

Work began to boil; The swallows carried clay and silt from a nearby stream in their noses, and soon the nest, which had deteriorated a little over the winter, was redecorated. Then the swallows began to carry either fluff, then a feather, or a stalk of moss into the nest.

A few more days passed, and the boy noticed that only one swallow was flying out of the nest, and the other remained in it constantly.

“Apparently, she put on the testicles and is now sitting on them,” the boy thought.

In fact, after three weeks, tiny heads began to peek out of the nest. How glad the boy was now that he had not ruined the nest!

Sitting on the porch, he spent hours watching how caring birds flew through the air and caught flies, mosquitoes and midges. How quickly they scurried back and forth, how tirelessly they obtained food for their children!

The boy marveled at how the swallows did not get tired of flying all day long, without sitting down for almost a single minute, and expressed his surprise to his father. The father took out a stuffed swallow and showed it to his son:

- Look how long, large wings and tail the swallow has in comparison with its small, light body and such tiny legs that it has almost nothing to sit on; that's why she can fly so fast and for a long time. If the swallow could speak, then she would tell you such wonders - about the southern Russian steppes, about the Crimean mountains covered with grapes, about the stormy Black Sea, which she had to fly through without sitting down even once, about Asia Minor, where everything was blooming and green , when we already had snow, about the blue Mediterranean Sea, where she had to relax once or twice on the islands, about Africa, where she built her nest and caught midges when we had Epiphany frosts.

“I didn’t think swallows fly so far,” said the boy.

“And not only swallows,” continued the father, “larks, quails, blackbirds, cuckoos, wild ducks, geese and many other birds, which are called migratory, also fly away from us for the winter in warm countries. For some, the warmth that happens in winter in southern Germany and France is enough; others need to fly high snowy mountains to take refuge for the winter in the blooming lemon and orange groves of Italy and Greece; the third needs to fly even further, to fly across the entire Mediterranean Sea.

“Why don’t they stay in warm countries the whole year,” asked the boy, “if it’s so good there?”

Apparently they don't have enough food for their children, or maybe it's too hot. But marvel at this: how do swallows, flying thousands of four miles, find their way to the very house where they have built their nest?

A. Chekhov “In Spring”

(excerpt)

The snow has not yet melted from the ground, but spring is already asking for the soul. If you have ever recovered from serious illness, then you know the blissful state when you freeze from vague premonitions and smile for no reason. Apparently, nature is now experiencing the same state. The ground is cold, the mud and snow squelch underfoot, but how cheerful, affectionate, and welcoming everything is all around! The air is so clear and transparent that if you climb a dovecote or a bell tower, you seem to see the entire universe from edge to edge.

The sun is shining brightly, and its rays, playing and smiling, bathe in the puddles along with the sparrows. The river swells and darkens; she has already woken up and will begin to roar today or tomorrow. The trees are bare, but they already live and breathe...

A. Chekhov “White-fronted”

The hungry wolf got up to go hunting. Her cubs, all three of them, were fast asleep, huddled together, warming each other. She licked them and walked away.

Was already spring month March, but at night the trees crackled with cold, like in December, and as soon as you stuck out your tongue, it began to sting strongly. The wolf was in poor health and suspicious; She shuddered at the slightest noise and kept thinking about how at home without her no one would offend the wolf cubs. The smell of human and horse tracks, tree stumps, stacked firewood and the dark, manure-covered road frightened her; It seemed to her as if people were standing behind the trees in the darkness and dogs were howling somewhere beyond the forest.

She was no longer young and her instincts had weakened, so that it happened that she mistook a fox’s track for a dog’s; sometimes even, deceived by her instincts, she lost her way, which had never happened to her in her youth. Due to poor health, she no longer hunted calves and large rams, as before, and already walked far around horses with foals, but ate only carrion; She had to eat fresh meat very rarely, only in the spring, when she, having come across a hare, took her children away from her or climbed into the men's barn where the lambs were.

About four versts from her lair, near the post road, there was a winter hut. Here lived the watchman Ignat, an old man of about seventy, who kept coughing and talking to himself; He usually slept at night, and during the day he wandered through the forest with a single-barreled gun and whistled at the hares. He must have served as a mechanic before, because every time before stopping he shouted to himself: “Stop, car!” and before going further: " Full speed ahead!” With him was a huge black dog of an unknown breed, named Arapka. When she ran far ahead, he shouted to her: “Reverse!” Sometimes he sang and at the same time staggered greatly and often fell (the wolf thought it was from the wind) and shouted: “He went off the rails!”

The wolf remembered that in the summer and autumn a sheep and two lambs grazed near the winter hut, and when she ran past not so long ago, she thought she heard something bleating in the barn. And now, approaching the winter quarters, she realized that it was already March and, judging by the time, there must certainly be lambs in the barn. She was tormented by hunger, she thought about how greedily she would eat the lamb, and from such thoughts her teeth clicked and her eyes shone in the darkness like two lights.

Ignat's hut, his barn, stable and well were surrounded by high snowdrifts. It was quiet. The little black must have been sleeping under the barn.

The wolf climbed up the snowdrift to the barn and began raking the thatched roof with her paws and muzzle. The straw was rotten and loose, so that the wolf almost fell through; Suddenly a smell of warm steam and the smell of manure and sheep's milk hit her right in the face. Below, feeling the cold, the lamb bleated tenderly. Jumping into the hole, the wolf fell with her front paws and chest on something soft and warm, probably on a ram, and at that time something in the barn suddenly squealed, barked and burst into a thin, howling voice, the sheep shied towards the wall, and The wolf, frightened, grabbed the first thing she caught in her teeth and rushed out...

She ran, straining her strength, and at this time Arapka, who had already sensed the wolf, howled furiously, disturbed chickens clucked in the winter hut, and Ignat, going out onto the porch, shouted:

- Full speed ahead! Let's go to the whistle!

And it whistled like a car, and then - go-go-go-go!.. And all this noise was repeated by the forest echo.

When little by little all this calmed down, the she-wolf calmed down a little and began to notice that her prey, which she held in her teeth and dragged through the snow, was heavier and seemed to be harder than lambs usually are at this time; and it smelled as if differently, and some strange sounds were heard... The wolf stopped and put her burden on the snow to rest and start eating, and suddenly jumped back in disgust. It was not a lamb, but a puppy, black, with a large head and high legs, large breed, with the same white spot all over the forehead like Arapka. Judging by his manners, he was an ignoramus, a simple mongrel. He licked his bruised, wounded back and, as if nothing had happened, waved his tail and barked at the wolf. She growled like a dog and ran away from him. He's behind her. She looked back and clicked her teeth; he stopped in bewilderment and, probably deciding that it was she who was playing with him, stretched his muzzle towards the winter hut and burst into a loud, joyful bark, as if inviting his mother Arapka to play with him and the wolf.

It was already dawn, and when the wolf made her way to her place through the dense aspen forest, every aspen tree was clearly visible, and the black grouse were already waking up and beautiful roosters often fluttered up, disturbed by the careless jumps and barking of the puppy.

“Why is he running after me? - thought the wolf with annoyance. “He must want me to eat him.”

She lived with the wolf cubs in a shallow hole; three years ago, during a strong storm, a tall old pine tree was uprooted, which is why this hole was formed. Now at the bottom there were old leaves and moss, and there were bones and bull horns with which the wolf cubs played. They had already woken up and all three, very similar to each other, stood side by side on the edge of their hole and, looking at the returning mother, wagged their tails. Seeing them, the puppy stopped at a distance and looked at them for a long time; noticing that they were also looking at him attentively, he began to bark angrily at them, as if they were strangers.

It was already dawn and the sun had risen, the snow was sparkling all around, and he still stood at a distance and barked. The wolf cubs suckled their mother, pushing her with their paws into her skinny belly, and at that time she was gnawing on a horse bone, white and dry; she was tormented by hunger, her head ached from the dog’s barking, and she wanted to rush at the uninvited guest and tear him apart.

Finally the puppy became tired and hoarse; Seeing that they were not afraid of him and did not even pay attention to him, he began to timidly, now crouching, now jumping, approach the wolf cubs. Now, in daylight, it was easy to see him... His white forehead was large, and on his forehead there was a bump, such as happens to very stupid dogs; the eyes were small, blue, dull, and the expression of the entire muzzle was extremely stupid. Approaching the wolf cubs, he stretched his wide paws forward, put his muzzle on them and began:

- Mnya, mnya... nga-nga-nga!..

The wolf cubs did not understand anything, but waved their tails. Then the puppy hit one of the wolf cubs with his paw. big head. The wolf cub also hit him on the head with his paw. The puppy stood sideways to him and looked at him sideways, wagging its tail, then suddenly rushed away and made several circles on the crust. The wolf cubs chased him, he fell on his back and lifted his legs up, and the three of them attacked him and, squealing with delight, began to bite him, but not painfully, but as a joke. The crows sat on a tall pine tree and looked down at their struggle and were very worried. It became noisy and fun. The sun was already hot like spring; and the roosters, every now and then flying over the pine tree, fallen by the storm, seemed emerald in the brilliance of the sun.

Usually she-wolves accustom their children to hunting by letting them play with prey; and now, watching how the wolf cubs chased the puppy along the crust and fought with it, the wolf thought:

“Let them get used to it.”

Having played enough, the cubs went into the hole and went to bed. The puppy howled a little with hunger, then also stretched out in the sun. And when they woke up, they started playing again.

All day and evening the wolf remembered how last night a lamb bleated in the barn and how it smelled of sheep's milk, and from appetite she kept clicking her teeth and did not stop gnawing greedily on an old bone, imagining to herself that it was a lamb. The wolf cubs suckled, and the puppy, who was hungry, ran around and sniffed the snow.

“Let’s eat it...” the wolf decided.

She came up to him, and he licked her face and whined, thinking that she wanted to play with him. In the past, she ate dogs, but the puppy smelled strongly of dog, and, due to poor health, she no longer tolerated this smell; she felt disgusted and walked away...

By night it got colder. The puppy got bored and went home.

When the wolf cubs were fast asleep, the wolf went hunting again. Like the previous night, she was alarmed by the slightest noise, and she was frightened by stumps, firewood, and dark, lonely juniper bushes that looked like people from a distance. She ran away from the road, along the crust. Suddenly something dark flashed on the road far ahead... She strained her eyes and ears: in fact, something was walking ahead, and even measured steps could be heard. Isn't it a badger? She carefully, barely breathing, taking everything to the side, overtook dark spot, looked back at him and recognized him. It was a puppy with a white forehead who was returning to his winter hut, slowly and step by step.

“I hope he doesn’t bother me again,” the wolf thought and quickly ran forward.

But the winter hut was already close. She again climbed up the snowdrift into the barn. Yesterday's hole had already been filled with spring straw, and two new strips stretched across the roof. The wolf began to quickly work with her legs and muzzle, looking around to see if the puppy was coming, but as soon as the warm steam and the smell of manure hit her, a joyful, liquid bark was heard from behind. It's the puppy back. He jumped onto the wolf's roof, then into a hole and, feeling at home, in the warmth, recognizing his sheep, barked even louder... Arapka woke up under the barn and, sensing the wolf, howled, the chickens cackled, and when Ignat appeared on the porch with with her single-barreled gun, the frightened wolf was already far from her winter hut.

- Fut! - Ignat whistled. - Fut! Drive at full speed!

He pulled the trigger - the gun misfired; he fired again - again it misfired; he fired a third time - and a huge sheaf of fire flew out of the trunk and a deafening “boo!” boo! There was a strong blow to his shoulder; and, taking a gun in one hand and an ax in the other, he went to see what was causing the noise...

A little later he returned to the hut.

“Nothing...” Ignat answered. - It's an empty matter. Our White-fronted one got into the habit of sleeping with the sheep, in the warmth. Only there is no such thing as a door, but everything seems to be going through the roof. The other night he tore up the roof and went for a walk, the scoundrel, and now he came back and tore up the roof again.

- Silly.

- Yes, the spring in the brain burst. I don't like death, stupid people! - sighed Ignat, who climbed onto the stove. - Well, man of God, it’s too early to get up, let’s go to sleep at full speed...

And in the morning he called White-fronted to him, tore him painfully by the ears and then, punishing him with a twig, kept saying:

- Go through the door! Walk through the door! Walk through the door!

A. Kuprin “Starlings”

It was mid-March. Spring this year turned out to be smooth and friendly.

Occasionally there were heavy but short rains. We have already driven on wheels on roads covered with thick mud. The snow still lay in drifts in deep forests and in the shady ravines, but in the fields the donkey became loose and dark, and from under it in some places black, greasy soil steaming in the sun appeared in large bald patches. The birch buds are swollen. The lambs on the willows turned from white to yellow, fluffy and huge. The willow blossomed. The bees flew out of the hives for the first bribe. The first snowdrops timidly appeared in the forest clearings.

We were looking forward to seeing old friends fly into our garden again - starlings, these cute, cheerful, sociable birds, the first migratory guests, the joyful messengers of spring. They need to fly many hundreds of miles from their winter camps, from the south of Europe, from Asia Minor, from the northern regions of Africa. Others will have to do more than three thousand versts. Many will fly over the seas: Mediterranean or Black. There are so many adventures and dangers along the way: rains, storms, dense fogs, hail clouds, birds of prey, shots from greedy hunters. How much incredible effort a small creature weighing about twenty to twenty-five spools must use for such a flight. Really, the shooters who destroy the bird during the difficult journey, when, obeying the mighty call of nature, have no heart, it strives to the place where it first hatched from the egg and saw sunlight and greens.

Animals have a lot of their own wisdom, incomprehensible to people. Birds are especially sensitive to weather changes and predict them long ago, but it often happens that migratory wanderers in the middle of a vast sea are suddenly overtaken by a sudden hurricane, often with snow. It is far from the shores, the strength is weakened by the long flight... Then the entire flock dies, with the exception of a small part of the strongest. Happiness for the birds if they encounter a sea vessel in these terrible moments. In a whole cloud they descend on the deck, on the wheelhouse, on the rigging, on the sides, as if entrusting their little life to a person in danger. And stern sailors will never offend them, will not offend their reverent gullibility. A beautiful sea legend even says that inevitable misfortune threatens the ship on which the bird that asked for shelter was killed.

Coastal lighthouses can sometimes be disastrous. Lighthouse keepers sometimes find in the mornings, after foggy nights, hundreds and even thousands of bird corpses in the galleries surrounding the lantern and on the ground around the building. Exhausted by the flight, heavy from the sea moisture, the birds, having reached the shore in the evening, unconsciously rush to where they are deceptively attracted by light and warmth, and in their fast flight they smash their chests against thick glass, iron and stone.

But an experienced, old leader will always save his flock from this misfortune by taking a different direction in advance. Birds also hit telegraph wires if for some reason they fly low, especially at night and in fog.

Having made a dangerous crossing across the sea plain, starlings rest all day and always in a certain, favorite place from year to year. I once saw one such place in Odessa in the spring. This is a house on the corner of Preobrazhenskaya Street and Cathedral Square, opposite the cathedral garden. This house was then completely black and seemed to be all stirring from the great multitude of starlings that settled everywhere: on the roof, on the balconies, cornices, window sills, trim, window visors and on the moldings. And the sagging telegraph and telephone wires were closely strung with them, like large black rosaries. There was so much deafening screaming, squeaking, whistling, chattering, chirping and all sorts of bustle, chatter and quarrel.

Despite their recent fatigue, they certainly could not sit still for a minute. Every now and then they pushed each other, falling up and down, circling, flying away and returning again. Only old, experienced, wise starlings sat in important solitude and sedately cleaned their feathers with their beaks. The entire sidewalk along the house turned white, and if a careless pedestrian happened to gape, then trouble threatened his coat and hat.

Starlings make their flights very quickly, sometimes making up to eighty miles per hour. They will fly to a familiar place early in the evening, feed themselves, take a short nap at night, and in the morning - before dawn - light breakfast and again on the road, with two or three stops in the middle of the day. So, we waited for the starlings. We fixed old birdhouses that had become warped from the winter winds and hung new ones. Three years ago we had only two of them, last year five, and now twelve. It was a little annoying that the sparrows imagined that this courtesy was being done for them, and immediately, at the first warmth, the birdhouses took over. This sparrow is an amazing bird, and everywhere it is the same - in the north of Norway and on the Azores: nimble, rogue, thief, bully, brawler, gossip and the most impudent one. He will spend the whole winter ruffled under the fence or in the depths thick spruce, feeding on what it finds on the road, and when spring comes, it climbs into someone else’s nest, which is closer to home - into a birdhouse or swallow. And when they kick him out, he’s as if nothing had happened... He fusses, jumps, his little eyes sparkle and shouts to the whole universe: “Alive, alive, alive! Alive, alive, alive! Please tell me what good news for the world!

Finally, on the nineteenth, in the evening (it was still light), someone shouted: “Look - starlings!” Indeed, they sat high on the branches of poplars and, after the sparrows, seemed unusually large and too black. We began to count them: one, two... five... ten... fifteen... And next to the neighbors, among the transparent spring-like trees, these dark motionless lumps easily swayed on flexible branches. That evening there was no noise or fuss among the starlings.

For two days the starlings seemed to be gaining strength and kept visiting and inspecting last year’s familiar places. And then the eviction of sparrows began. I did not notice any particularly violent clashes between starlings and sparrows.

Usually, starlings sit in twos high above the birdhouses and, apparently, chatter carelessly about something among themselves, while they themselves gaze downwards with one eye, sideways. It's scary and difficult for the sparrow. No, no - he sticks his sharp, cunning nose out of the round hole - and back. Finally, hunger, frivolity, and perhaps timidity make themselves felt. “I’m flying, he thinks, for a minute and right away. Maybe I'll outwit you. Maybe they won’t notice.” And as soon as it has time to fly away a fathom, the starling drops like a stone and is already at home. And now the sparrow’s temporary economy has come to an end. Starlings guard the nest one by one: one sits while the other flies on business. Sparrows would never think of such a trick: a windy, empty, frivolous bird. And so, out of chagrin, great battles begin between the sparrows, during which fluff and feathers fly into the air. And the starlings sit high in the trees and even tease: “Hey, black-headed one. You won’t be able to overcome that yellow-chested one forever and ever.” - "How? To me? Yes, I’ll take him now!” - “Come on, come on...” And there will be a dump. However, in the spring all the animals and birds and even the boys fight much more than in the winter.

Having settled in the nest, the starling begins to carry all kinds of construction nonsense there: moss, cotton wool, feathers, fluff, rags, straw, dry blades of grass.

He makes the nest very deep, so that a cat does not crawl in with its paw or a raven sticks its long predatory beak through it. They cannot penetrate further: the entrance hole is quite small, no more than five centimeters in diameter.

And then soon the ground dried up, fragrant birch buds blossomed.

Fields are plowed, vegetable gardens are dug up and loosened. How many different worms, caterpillars, slugs, bugs and larvae crawl into the light! What an expanse!

In the spring, a starling never looks for its food, either in the air in flight, like swallows, or on a tree, like a nuthatch or woodpecker. Its food is on the ground and in the ground. And do you know how many insects it destroys during the summer, if you count it by weight? A thousand times more own weight! But he spends his whole day in continuous movement.

It is interesting to watch when he, walking between the beds or along the path, hunts for his prey. His gait is very fast and slightly clumsy, with a sway from side to side. Suddenly he stops, turns to one side, then to the other, bows his head first to the left, then to the right. It will quickly bite and run on. And again, and again... Black back it shines in the sun metallic green or purple, chest with brown specks. And during this business there is so much in him of something businesslike, fussy and funny that you look at him for a long time and involuntarily smile.

It is best to observe the starling early in the morning, before sunrise, and for this you need to get up early. However, an old clever saying says: “He who gets up early doesn’t lose.” If you sit quietly in the morning, every day, without sudden movements somewhere in the garden or vegetable garden, then the starlings will soon get used to you and will come very close. Try throwing worms or bread crumbs to the bird, first from afar, then decreasing the distance. You will achieve the fact that after a while the starling will take food from your hands and sit on your shoulder. And having arrived at next year, he will very soon resume and conclude his former friendship with you. Just don't betray his trust. The only difference between both of you is that he is small and you are big. A bird is a very smart, observant creature; she is extremely remembering and grateful for any kindness.

And the real song of the starling should be listened to only in the early morning, when the first pink light of dawn colors the trees and with them the birdhouses, which are always located with an opening to the east. The air warmed up a little, and the starlings had already settled on high branches and began their concert. I don’t know, really, whether the starling has his own motives, but you will hear enough of anything alien in his song. There are pieces of nightingale trills, and the sharp meow of an oriole, and the sweet voice of a robin, and the musical babbling of a warbler, and the thin whistling of a titmouse, and among these melodies such sounds are suddenly heard that, sitting alone, you can’t help but laugh: a hen cackles on a tree , the sharpener's knife will hiss, the door will creak, the children's military trumpet will blow. And, having made this unexpected musical retreat, the starling, as if nothing had happened, without a break, continues his cheerful, sweet, humorous song. One starling I knew (and only one, because I always heard it in a certain place) amazingly faithfully imitated a stork. I just imagined this venerable white black-tailed bird, when it stands on one leg on the edge of its round nest, on the roof of a Little Russian hut, and beats out a ringing shot with its long red beak. Other starlings did not know how to do this thing.

In mid-May, the mother starling lays four to five small, bluish, glossy eggs and sits on them. Now the father starling has a new duty - to entertain the female in the mornings and evenings with his singing throughout the incubation period, which lasts about two weeks. And, I must say, during this period he no longer mocks or teases anyone. Now his song is gentle, simple and extremely melodic.

By the beginning of June, the chicks had already hatched. The starling chick is a true monster, which consists entirely of the head, but the head only consists of a huge, yellow-edged, unusually voracious mouth. For caring parents The most troublesome time has come. No matter how much you feed the little ones, they are always hungry. And then there’s the constant fear of cats and jackdaws; It’s scary to be far from the birdhouse.

But starlings are good companions. As soon as jackdaws or crows get into the habit of circling around the nest, a watchman is immediately appointed, and a starling on duty sits on the crown of the nest itself. tall tree and, whistling quietly, looks vigilantly in all directions. As soon as the predators appear close, the watchman gives a signal, and the entire starling tribe flocks to protect the younger generation. I once saw how all the starlings who were visiting me chased three jackdaws at least a mile away. What a vicious persecution this was! The starlings soared easily and quickly over the jackdaws, fell on them from a height, scattered to the sides, closed again and, catching up with the jackdaws, climbed up again for a new blow.

The jackdaws seemed cowardly, clumsy, rude and helpless in their heavy flight, and the starlings were like some kind of sparkling, transparent spindles flashing in the air.

But it’s already the end of July. One day you go out into the garden and listen. No starlings. You didn’t even notice how the little ones grew up and how they learned to fly.

Now they have left their native homes and are leading a new life in the forests, in winter fields, near distant swamps. There they gather in small flocks and learn to fly for a long time, preparing for the autumn migration. Soon the young people will face their first, great exam, from which some will not come out alive. Occasionally, however, starlings return for a moment to their abandoned father's homes.

They will fly in, circle in the air, sit on a branch near the birdhouses, frivolously whistle some newly picked up motif and fly away, sparkling with their light wings.

But the first cold weather has already set in. It's time to go. By order mighty nature the leader gives a sign one morning, and the air cavalry, squadron after squadron, takes off into the air and rapidly rushes south. Goodbye, dear starlings! Come in the spring. The nests are waiting for you...

Spring is the period of awakening and blossoming of nature.There is still snow on the ground, but alreadyHedgehogs and bears woke up from a long winter sleep.They left the hole or den and went to look for drier places.

How did they know that spring had come? After all, there is no TV or radio in the forest? How did they know that it was time for them to wake up and get out of their holes and dens as quickly as possible?

It turns out that the snow melted in the spring,Water leaked from the melted snow into their holes and dens. Even if you want to sleep, you can’t lie in a wet hole. So they had to crawl out of their holes and dens and look for drier places for themselves.

1. Bears in the spring.

In April, a mother bear with grown cubs wakes up and leaves the den. She wanders through the forest - looking for food: pulling out bulbs and roots of plants, looking for larvae.

Coming out of the den, the bear stretches, rolls around, tries to warm up after hibernation, and puts his fur coat in order. And looking for food.

By the time they leave the den, bears molt. They lose their thick winter coat and grow a short, darker coat. The fur will grow again all summer and will be thick and warm by the new winter (bears do not shed in the fall).

In the spring, the she-bear not only feeds the cubs with her milk, but also teaches them to get their own food - dig roots out of the ground, look for insects, last year's berries. Even if the mother bear is hungry, first of all she will give food to her babies - the cubs. While protecting the cubs, the mother bear can attack any enemy.

In the spring, the mother bear bathes her cubs in streams and lakes: she takes them by the scruff of the neck and lowers them into the water. Later, when the kids grow up, they will begin to bathe themselves.

Sometimes in a family of bears there is an older bear cub - a “pestun” (a bear cub from last year’s litter). So it is called from the word “nurture”. A bear cub is a nurse - the main assistant of a mother bear, a role model for little bear cubs. He shows them how to climb hollows for honey, how to feast on ants and their larvae. He separates the cubs if they fight and restores order among them. This is the kind of helper the bear has! And daddy bear does not take part in raising the cubs.

1. Hedgehogs in the spring.
   

Hedgehogs wake up after hibernation only when their burrow warms up. And the mink warms up when the ground thaws. At the end of March, at the beginning of April, you can come to the forest and hear snorting, coughing and rustling of last year’s leaves under the bushes. It's probably a hedgehog. And if the hedgehog wakes up, it means that winter will definitely not return.

In April, hedgehogs also appear. They are born in a hedgehog's nest, which looks like a hut made of dry leaves, twigs and moss. The hedgehog feeds the hedgehogs with milk and takes care of them.

Hedgehogs, like baby squirrels, are born helpless and naked, without needles. A few hours after birth, bumps appear on the skin of the hedgehogs, then they burst, and thin needles appear from them. Then the needles will harden and turn into thorns. The mother of the hedgehog first feeds the hedgehogs with milk, and then, when they grow up, she brings them earthworms and slugs to their nest.

They love hedgehogs. Do you know why... Because you rarely meet with them. And those who are familiar with them know that the character and manners of hedgehogs... Well, in short, hedgehogs are not fluffy bunnies!

To begin with, I will tell you that hedgehogs are terrible sleepers. They sleep a lot. And for a long time. From October to March they hibernate. And in the summer, when they eat up their sides, hedgehogs can sleep most of the day. They really love to sleep.

Dad the hedgehog especially loves to sleep. He runs away from his wife immediately after the wedding ceremony. In one of his holes, of which he usually has about ten. A hedgehog takes care of its offspring for 30-40 days. After this, the little hedgehogs scatter in different sides: some for beetles, some for slugs, and the most cunning ones - for the larvae of mosquitoes and centipedes. When the mushrooms grow and the berries ripen, hedgehogs can become vegetarians.

Hedgehogs also love to eat - sometimes they eat so much during the night that their weight increases by a third.

• IN in spring many animals molt. .

They exchange their winter coat - warm, thick - for a summer, lighter one. Hares, foxes, bears, and moose moult in the spring. The squirrel becomes red again, and not silver as in winter.

To quickly shed its white fur, the hare rolls on the grass, rubs against the branches of bushes and tree trunks. Therefore, in the forest in the spring you can see scraps of hare fur on stems, branches, and in thickets.

In spring, animals feel hot in winter coats; the fur is too thick. And the sun is getting hotter and hotter, it's time to change your winter outfit. The animals began to moult. Their old fur gradually falls out and their fur becomes sparse. Now it won’t be so hot for forest dwellers in the spring sun. Some animals not only shed, but even change the color of their coat. The hare's fur was white in winter and turned gray in spring. This makes it easier for him to hide from predators in the forest. And in winter, a bunny in a white fur coat is not visible in the snow, and in spring, gray fur helps to hide from enemies under the bushes.

The squirrel also changes its outfit - in winter it was in a thick gray fur coat, and in the spring it faded and became red. Now you won’t even notice it right away in the crowns of pine trees.”

• In the spring, the animals give birth to their young.

Almost all baby animals live with their mothers, except for rabbits.

1. Squirrels in the spring.

At the squirrel's Baby squirrels also appear in the spring. They are born naked, helpless, and cannot see anything. The mother squirrel takes care of them, feeding the squirrels milk for two months. But the squirrel dad doesn’t live with his family, he lives separately.

The mother squirrel spends a lot of time searching for food, otherwise the baby squirrels will grow up frail and sick. Baby squirrels demand special attention from squirrels - mothers, they need to be sheltered, warmed, fed. Only after a month do the baby squirrels open their eyes and begin to look out of the nest.

In spring, the squirrel is the enemy of all birds and the most dangerous predator for many birds. She destroys bird nests on tree branches and steals chicks and eggs from them.

1. Hares in spring.

Mom is a hare feeds the bunnies and immediately runs away, leaving them alone under a bush. And the bunnies sit under the bush for three to four days, waiting for someone to feed them. new mom- hare.

There are no strangers' bunnies - they are all their own and will always be fed. Hares' milk is fatty and nutritious; it lasts for 3-4 days.

Why does nature work this way? The fact is that hares have sweat and sebaceous glands only on the soles of their paws. And if the hare lived with the hares, they would quickly be found - smelled by the smell - a fox or a wolf. After all, rabbits have many enemies - fox, wolf, marten, lynx, and birds of prey. And when a tiny bunny sits under a bush and hides its paws under itself, it is impossible to find it by smell. It turns out that by running away from the bunnies, the hare saves them.

After 8-9 days, the rabbits will have teeth, and then grass will appear, and they will begin to feed themselves.

1. Foxes in spring.

Foxes also have cubs. Usually in March - April, a fox gives birth to 4-6 cubs. Little fox cubs are dark brown in color, and the tips of their tails are white! After 3-4 weeks, the fox cubs stop eating the milk of their mother, the fox, but still live in the hole. Their parents bring them food into the hole.

Their mother, the fox, does not allow anyone near the fox cubs. She guards the hole. The mother fox watches closely to see if there is any danger nearby. In case of danger, the fox barks loudly, and the cubs quickly run away - they hide deep in the hole. And if people or dogs have visited the fox hole, then the fox will definitely move her cubs to another safe place - away from the previous hole. The father fox also helps raise the fox cubs. He teaches them and brings them booty.

In the spring, the fox gives birth to cubs: 4.5 or 6 puppies. Yes, yes, fox cubs are called puppies. Whose other babies are called puppies?

Foxes and dogs are close relatives. They even have similar voices: foxes, like dogs, bark and yap.

1. Wolves in the spring.

To raise wolf cubs, wolves make a den in the forest thicket. In the spring, a she-wolf gives birth to 4-7 cubs. They are born helpless and covered with gray fluff. First, the she-wolf feeds the cubs with her milk, and does not leave them anywhere. And daddy the wolf brings food to the she-wolf. When the wolf cubs grow up, both mother and father feed them together.

With the arrival of spring in kindergartens and schools, the time comes when children listen to stories from teachers on the topic “Spring” and observe changes in nature outside. It is best to present a story about spring to children by going to the park or going to nature in the countryside, where spring appears in all its glory. Unfortunately, in the spring the city is not very cozy, and it is difficult for children to understand the full significance

• melting snow
• return of migratory birds,
• the appearance of the first leaves on the trees,
• the first snowdrops.

Therefore, it is better if a teacher or parent conducts his story on the topic “Spring has come” in a forest or forest plantation. All great teachers did this.

What to tell children about with the onset of spring?

For preschoolers, such a story about spring can be quite simple and short. For children who go to grades 2-3, you can create a more extensive and detailed story on the theme “Spring has come.”
Stories can be used as a basis famous writers:

1. Chekhov,
2. Prishvina,
3. Ushinsky and others.

What should children know?

What should children in grades 2-3 know about spring? Why is the story about spring so important for them?

What happens in nature?

In spring, the days become much longer.
The sun heats up more, the snow begins to melt, and the first thawed patches appear on the ground. On the river you can see how the ice cracks, individual ice floes float with a crashing sound, sometimes rivers overflow and cover the banks with water. A story about spring will help children imagine a holistic picture of the arrival of this time of year.
The sky takes on a blue tint and becomes warmer. The snow melts most lately in those places where the sun does not shine: in ravines, dense thickets, in the forest. As the snow melts, the first grass breaks through the ground, followed by snowdrops and violets, which can be found in large numbers in the forest, then dandelions show their yellow caps. Linden and birch begin to bloom, followed by linden, alder, oak, and maple. If you cut the bark of a birch tree in the forest at this time, bitter sap will flow out of it. By May, the fragrant lily of the valley blooms, and the trees include apricot, cherry, apple, and pear. A story about spring will allow children to pay more attention to such changes.

Which birds arrive first?

The first birds to arrive are the rooks: they herald the arrival of spring. Beautiful pictures and posters about birds you can look at.
They fly after the rooks:

1. larks,
2. blackbirds,
3. cuckoos,
4. wild pigeons,
5. cranes.

For the little ones, you can use the book from the Karapuz publishing house “Freckle-Spring”:

Information for children about each month

A Tale of Spring:

Short works of classics, as well as excerpts and excerpts on the topic

Riddles and poems

Thematic lesson with stories, riddles, poems and questions:

Tales about spring: 11 educational fairy tales in pictures and tasks for children. We introduce children to the world around them.

Tales of spring

In the article you will find a selection entertaining educational tales about spring in pictures and tasks for children. Use them on a walk, when looking at spring paintings and photographs, and in conversations about spring.

• discuss it
• While walking, observe the phenomena mentioned in the fairy tale.
• act out dialogues from a fairy tale with toys or pictures.
• come up with a continuation of the fairy tale, in which new heroes will participate.

In the article you will find 11 fairy tales about spring for children of different ages - from preschool to primary school, as well as two cartoons - fairy tales about spring (“Spring Tale” and “Snow Maiden”).

Tales about spring: How to hear spring in the forest?

Spring can be seen on the street, in photographs, in paintings. Can you hear spring? How? Try listening to spring while taking your child for a walk or on the way to kindergarten, children's club, to the store, or on a visit. How can you tell by the sounds that spring has come? (drops of icicles are dripping, streams are ringing, birds are singing, etc.)

Listen to Spring's tale about its secrets and how you can hear it.

E. Shim. Spring.

“Do you hear?
Light drops call forth, streams splash, waves rumble like strings... The music is getting louder, more joyful!
It’s me, Spring, riding through the forest today. I have a team of twelve fastest streams. They spread their foamy manes, rush down the hills, carve a path in the dirty snow. Nothing will stop them!

Fly, my silver horses, hey, hey! Ahead lies a deserted land, fallen asleep in a dead sleep. Who will wake her up, who will call her to life?
I, Spring, will do it.

I have full handfuls of living water. I will sprinkle the earth with this water, and immediately everything around will come to life...

Look - I waved my hand, and - the rivers wake up... so they rise, swell... break the green ice above them!

Look, I waved it again and - the trees and bushes awaken... the branches straighten... the sticky buds unfurl!

Look - for the third time I waved my hand, and - all kinds of small living creatures began to scurry away... birds were flying from the distant south... animals were getting out of dark holes!

Move over, forest people, you will sleep! I myself am in a hurry - I’m in a hurry and I don’t tell others to lie still. Hurry up, otherwise the violent flood will catch up with you, surround you, and some will have to swim.

I can't wait, I big way to come. From the southern edge of the earth to the northern, to the very cold seas, I must rush on my fast horses.

And then Frost is stubborn, at night he secretly throws an icy bridle on my horses. He wants to detain me, stop me, turn living water into dead water.

But I won't give in to him.

In the morning the sun will heat up my horses, they will rush off again and destroy all the ice barriers.

And again the light drops call, again the streams splash, again they rumble... He sings living water, and the earth awakens to new life!”

Journey to the spring forest. After reading the fairy tale, ask your child to imagine that you are in the forest in the spring. What sounds will you hear? What sounds of Spring did you and your children hear in the fairy tale (re-read the words from the story:

• “Rivers are waking up... so they rise, swell... break the green ice above them!” - and ask - “If the rivers rise and break the ice, then what can you hear?
• “all small living creatures have fallen asleep” - what are these sounds? So, what else can you hear in the spring forest?
• “birds are flying from the far south” - what can you hear?
• “I have a team of twelve fastest streams. They spread their foamy manes, rush down the hills, carve a path in the dirty snow. Nothing will stop them! - what kind of sounds do we hear in the spring?

Discuss with children:“Why does the fairy tale say that “the sun will heat up the horses”? What kind of horses does spring have? How will the sun warm them up? What kind of icy bridle does Frost throw on the horses of spring? (it covers them with ice at night, and in the morning and during the day the ice melts and streams flow).” It is very important that children themselves try to figure out what kind of horses these are, and discover for themselves this figurative comparison - streams are like horses in Spring’s harness, on which she rides across the earth.

Draw Spring in her harness.

Ask your child:“How does spring keep forest people from sleeping? How does she wake them up? Re-read the passage: “Move, forest people, you will sleep! I myself am in a hurry - I’m in a hurry and I don’t tell others to lie still. Hurry up, otherwise the violent flood will catch up with you, surround you, and someone will have to swim.” Tell us about the spring flood.

The following tales about spring will help you tell about the flood.

Tales of Spring: Spring Flood

G. Ladonshchikov. Bear

“Without need and without worry
The bear was sleeping in his den.
I slept all winter until spring,
And, probably, he saw dreams.

Suddenly the clubfoot woke up,
He hears: drip! —
What a disaster!
I groped in the darkness with my paw
And jumped up -
Water all around!
The bear hurried outside:
Floods - no time for sleep!
He got out and saw:
Puddles,
The snow is melting...
Spring has come."

And this is how it was - listen to the fairy tale.

N. Sladkov Bear and the Sun

“Water seeped into the den and wet the bear’s pants.
- May you, slush, dry up completely! - the Bear cursed. - Here I am now!

It’s not my fault, Bear. Snow is to blame for everything. It started to melt, let the water go. But my business is watery - it flows downhill.
- Oh, so it’s Snow’s fault? Here I am now! - the Bear roared.
Snow turned white and got scared. He creaked in fear:

It's not my fault, Bear. The sun is to blame. It’s so hot, it’s so scorching - you’ll melt here!

Oh, so it was the Sun that wet my pants? - the Bear barked. - Here I am now!

What about “now”?

You can’t grab the sun with your teeth or reach it with your paw. Shines to himself. The snow melts and drives water into the den. The bear wets his pants.
There is nothing to do - the Bear left the den. He grumbled, grumbled, and even scratched his head. Dry your pants. Welcome spring."

This fairy tale is very good for dramatization. Here are figures that you can use to act out dialogues from the fairy tale. You can make a simple finger theater or figurines on magnets or for a carpet grapher.

You will find information on how to quickly and easily make a finger theater with your children in the “Dialogues-dramatization” section.

E. Shim. Moose and mouse

“Why are you, moose, taking the rap?

— The river has overflowed. I swam through it, almost drowned... Phew!

- Just think, dear! I suffered more than you.

- Why are you tormented?

- And the puddle spilled near my mink. My entire home was flooded, all the paths were cut off... I’ve been floating on a branch for three days!”

E. Shim. Fox and Magpie

“- Apchhhi!..

- Be healthy, Foxy!

“You’ll be healthy here... The snow is wet everywhere, the streams are overflowing, and the trees are dripping.” Not only the paws - the tail is completely raw. At least squeeze it and hang it on a bush!”

Read the fairy tale “The Woodpecker, the Hares and the Bear” and act it out using toys, pictures or a finger theater. Play plastic sketches - the bear is sleeping, the bear woke up, the bear was scared and angry that the water got it wet, the bear was happy to find sweet roots in the ground, the bear sings a spring song.

E. Shim. Woodpecker, hares and bear

“The snow began to melt in the forest, the hollow water rose and flooded the bear’s den.

The Bear woke up - wow, what a disaster! — there’s a puddle under his belly, his paws are cold, even the fur on the back of his neck is wet... He jumped out, shaking, his teeth chattering.

But the outside is no sweeter. It’s dripping from all the trees, streams are running from the hills, and lakes have overflowed in the clearings. There is nowhere to set foot on dry land!

The Bear splashes on the water - angry - despicable, growls:

- Ugh, you're an abyss, what a waste of life!.. It was bad to sleep in the winter, and waking up was on you! - even worse... What is this punishment for?!

And suddenly he hears a song. Someone cheerfully says:

Knock-knock, the branch is shaking,
There, there, there comes the knock!
Fir-fir? Sixteen holes
Drrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

The Bear raised his head and saw a woodpecker in a red cap on a birch tree. The Woodpecker leans on his tail-support, hits the birch bark with his nose, giggles - he’s so happy!

- Why are you singing, long-nosed? - asks the Bear.

- Why not sing, grandpa? Spring has come!..

- So what's good?

- Yes, you obviously haven’t woken up yet! Spring is red, you know?!

- Ugh, the abyss! Why did you like her so much?!

- Like what? Nowadays every day is a holiday, there is a treat on every branch. So I flew to a birch tree, poked holes in the bark - knock! Knock! - and look... sweet juice they are dripping. Drink to your heart's content and praise the red Spring!

“Some have sweet juice, some have cold water,” says the Bear. - Shut up, don’t tease, I’m sick without you.

Jump through the bush,
Jump over a hummock,
Forward - back,
Forward - back.

The Bear came closer and saw: hares were playing in the clearing, chasing each other. They were so happy that they didn’t notice anything around them.

- “Tsit, slanted ones! - the Bear barked. – what kind of mess?!

- It’s spring, grandpa! Spring is red!

- What good is it to you?!

- Yes, of course, grandfather! Every day we have a holiday, there is a treat at every step. They ran to this clearing, and here the green grass has already sprouted, you can cram it... How can one not praise and glorify the red Spring?

“Some have grass, some have dirt and slush,” says the Bear. Get out of here, don’t bother my soul, you damned ones...

He wandered further, splashing in the puddles with his paws. And the further into the forest, the more songs and dances. All residents - from small birds to large animals - rejoice with great joy and celebrate the spring holiday. The forest is ringing and walking!

The Bear sat down on a dry hillock, propped his paw up, sunbathed:

- How can it be... Everyone in the forest is happy, I alone have no joy. Am I the worst?

And then the sun came out from behind a cloud. It warmed the Bear’s back, a steam curled over the wet skin... The Bear groaned with pleasure and turned his sides up. It’s so nice to warm up after the cold!

Steam also came from the warm earth. Bear pulled his nose - it smells!.. Familiar, sweet!

He began to dig the ground, turned away the turf - and there were roots visible. How did he forget about them?! After all, I had to feast on it, in the spring the roots are juicy, sugary - you won’t find a better treat!

Then he hears: a song. Someone writes:

Oh, oh, lunch is not bad,
The left side is hot,
And behind him is the right side,
I can’t feel my feet underneath me,
Thank you, spring, for reassuring me!

I looked around - there was no one. And the song was very close!

I didn’t realize right away that he started singing it himself.

That's how Spring got in"

And here is another tale about spring and spring floods. Together with your child, figure out how this fabulous spring story ends.

N. Sladkov. Three on one log

“The river overflowed its banks and the water overflowed into the sea. The Fox and the Hare are stuck on an island. The Hare rushes around the island and says:

There is water ahead, the Fox behind - this is the situation!

And the Fox shouts to the Hare:

Sigh, Hare, come to my log - you won’t drown!

The island is going under water. The Hare jumped onto the log to the Fox and the two of them swam down the river.

Magpie saw them and chirped:

Interesting, interesting... Fox and Hare on the same log - something will come of it!

The Fox and the Hare are swimming. A magpie flies from tree to tree along the shore.

So the Hare says:

I remember before the flood, when I was in the forest, I loved to lick willow branches! So tasty, so juicy...

And for me,” sighs the Fox, “there is nothing sweeter than mice and voles.” You won’t believe it, the Hare swallowed them whole, didn’t even spit out the bones!

Yeah! - Soroka was wary. - It's starting!..

She flew up to the log, sat down on a twig and said:

There are no tasty mice on the log. You, Fox, will have to eat the Hare!

The hungry Fox rushed at the Hare, but the edge of the log plunged - the Fox quickly returned to her place. She shouted at Soroka angrily:

Oh, what a nasty bird you are! There is no peace for you either in the forest or on the water. So you cling to it like a burr to a tail!

And Soroka, as if nothing had happened:

Now, Hare, it's your turn to attack. Where have you seen the Fox and the Hare get along? Push her into the water, I will help!

The Hare closed his eyes and rushed at the Fox, but the log swayed - the Hare quickly came back. And shouts at Soroka:

What a nasty bird! He wants to destroy us. He's deliberately inciting each other!

A log is floating along the river, the Hare and the Fox are thinking on the log.”

Tales of spring: spring conversations in the forest

Hares give birth to babies in March. They are called “nastovichok” (from the word “nast” - crust on the snow). The wolf's cubs appear. They are born very small and blind. Other animals also give birth to babies.

Here spring fairy tale about one such little bunny - a baby. It contains very unusual word“to cram”, that is, to make notches.

E. Shim. Everything has its time

“The Nastovich bunny was born in March, when the earth was still covered in white snow.

The Bunny's fur coat is warm. The Hare's milk is nourishing. The little hare sits under a bush, looking in all directions with round eyes. It’s okay, you can live...

Days pass. The Little Bunny is growing. And he became bored.

“Well,” he says to the Hare, “will it be like this all the time?” Sit under a bush, on white snow look, wait until they feed you milk?

“Wait,” the hare says. - Everything has its time. Soon spring will be in full swing, you will be running through the green forest, cramming sweet grass.

- Will it be soon?

Days pass. The sun is warming up, the snow is settling in the forest, there are puddles around the trees.

The little bunny can't wait:

- Well, where is the green forest, where is the sweet grass? I don't want to wait any longer!

“Wait,” the hare says. - Everything has its time.

Days pass. The snow is melting in the forest, the drops are clicking, the streams are ringing.

The bunny is unbearable:

- Well, where is the green forest? Where is the sweet grass?! I won't, I won't wait any longer!

“Wait,” the Hare says again. - Everything has its time.

Days pass. There is high water in the forest, fogs are spreading over the damp earth, the cries of cranes can be heard in the sky.

“Well,” the Little Hare is sad, “apparently these are fairy tales - about a green forest and grass... None of this happens in the world.” And I waited in vain!

- Look at that! - The hare says. - Look around!

The Little Hare looked around and saw the first green leaves on the birch tree. Tiny, tiny! I looked at the ground and saw the first blade of grass emerge. Thin - thin!

And the Little Hare was so happy. I was so happy! He jumps on his awkward legs and shouts:

- Yeah! Yeah! Spring has flared up! The leaves on the trees are green! The grass on the ground is sweet! That's good! That's great!

“The time for your joy has come,” the Hare grins.

“Yes,” says the Little Hare, “how long!” I'm exhausted! Waited and waited and waited and waited...

“And if I hadn’t waited,” says the Hare, “would you have been happy about a tiny leaf, a thin blade of grass?”

In the spring, not only bunnies are born, but also other babies - little animals. Listen to a fairy tale about how the mothers of the animals talked to each other. Before reading, show your child pictures of animals and their babies and ask them to guess how many children each has. Write down the number or draw in circles the named number. And then read the story and see if the children guessed it. This is not a mathematical problem, and the most important thing in it is not to guess and sketch the number, but quite the opposite, to discover a miracle for yourself! – and be amazed by the natural world! Therefore, do not tell the kids the correct answer, give them the opportunity to experience the joy of discovery amazing world nature!

E. Shim. Hare family

“At the birch edge, forest mothers boasted to each other about their children.

- Oh, what a son I have! - said mom Deer.– You can’t look at him enough. The hooves are chiseled, the legs are straight, the neck is high... light as a breeze!

“Mmm, son, of course, he’s not bad,” said the mother. Badger.- But what does he care about my children! They are so smart, so smart! We were born in March, we already opened our eyes in April, and now – can you believe it? - they even run out of the hole... - How many of them do you have? – asked the Deer.

- Of course, not one or two. Three!

“We can congratulate you,” said my mother. Hedgehog. – But still, my children cannot be compared with yours. I have five souls! And you know, they already have fur... and even their needles are becoming hard... Well, isn’t it a miracle?

- Oink! - said mom Kabanikha.- Five is good. Well, what do you say if there are ten of them?

- Who has ten of them?! – Jezhikh’s mother was amazed.

- Oink-oink... I have exactly ten, and all as one... oink!.. furry... oink!.. striped... oink! They squeal subtly, like birds... Where else can you find such a family?

Before the mothers had time to agree, a voice suddenly came from the field:

- And I have a better family!

- And mom appeared at the edge of the forest Hamster.

“Come on,” she said, “try to guess how many children I have!”

- Also ten! – Kabanikha’s mother grunted.

“Twelve?” asked Mother Badger.

- Fifteen? – Hedgehog’s mother whispered and was scared herself when she named such a large number.

— — No matter how it is! - said Mom Hamster - Raise it higher! I have children - eighteen souls, what time! And why talk about fur, about eyes - it’s all nonsense. My kids have already started working. Even though they are small, everyone is already digging a hole for themselves and preparing their own housing. Can you imagine?

- Yes, your family is the most wonderful! – all the mothers admitted. – Just think: eighteen children are workers!

Mothers would have been surprised for a long time if she had not appeared at the edge of the forest Hare.

She didn’t boast, she walked quietly.

No one would have known how many children she had if Olenich’s mother had not asked:

- Well, how many souls are there in your family?

“I don’t know,” said the Hare. - Who counted them... Maybe a hundred, maybe a thousand, or maybe even more.

- How so?! - Moms jumped up. - Can't be!!.

“That’s exactly what happens here,” said the Hare. – We are not used to babysitting our children. Bunnies are born, we feed them once, and then we leave them somewhere under a bush - and goodbye!

- Why? How merciless! - the mothers shouted.

- And then it’s better this way. The little hares will hide under a bush, become quiet - neither the wolf nor the fox will find them. And if we were nearby, we would bring trouble upon them.

- But they are small!

- Small, but remote... And they know how to hide, they see vigilantly, and they hear sensitively. Yes, their fur coats are warm.

- Who feeds them?

- Yes, any Hare that you meet. We don’t have other people’s children, they’re all our own. Today I will feed one, tomorrow I will feed the other. So it turns out that all the bunnies in the forest are from my family. And no one knows how many there are. Maybe a hundred, maybe a thousand, maybe even more. Do the math, try it!

And then all the mothers realized that the most amazing family in the forest was the hare.”

Tales of Spring: Migratory Birds

They return home in the spring migratory birds. The rooks arrive first. They are not afraid of the cold. Later - starlings, followed by larks.

Thawed patches appear on the ground, and birds find seeds, bugs, and larvae in the thawed patches.

Read a very interesting spring story to the children educational fairy tale for children about what once happened in a spring thawed patch.

N. Sladkov. Whose thawed patch?

“I saw the Forty-first thawed patch - a dark speck on the white snow.
- My! - she shouted. - My thawed patch, since I saw it first!
There are seeds in the thawed patch, spider bugs are swarming, the lemongrass butterfly is lying on its side, warming up. Magpie's eyes widened, her beak opened, and out of nowhere - Rook.

Hello, grow up, she has already appeared! In the winter I wandered around the crow dumps, and now to my thawed patch! Ugly!
- Why is she yours? - Magpie chirped. - I saw it first!
“You saw it,” Rook barked, “and I’ve been dreaming about it all winter.” He was in a hurry to get to her a thousand miles away! For her sake I left warm countries. Without her, I wouldn't be here. Where there are thawed patches, there we are, rooks. My thawed patch!
- Why is he croaking here! - Magpie rumbled. - All winter in the south he basked and basked, ate and drank whatever he wanted, and when he returned, give him the thawed patch without a queue! And I was freezing all winter, rushing from the trash heap to the landfill, swallowing snow instead of water, and now, barely alive, weak, I finally spotted a thawed patch, and they took it away. You, Rook, are only dark in appearance, but you are on your own mind. Shoot from the thawed patch before it pecks at the crown!

The Lark flew in to hear the noise, looked around, listened and chirped:
- Spring, sun, clear sky, and you are quarreling. And where - on my thawed patch! Do not darken my joy of meeting her. I'm hungry for songs!
Magpie and Rook just flapped their wings.
- Why is she yours? This is our thawed patch, we found it. The magpie had been waiting for her all winter, overlooking all eyes.
And I may have been in such a hurry from the south to get to her that I almost dislocated my wings on the way.
- And I was born on it! - Lark squeaked. - If you look, you can also find the shells from the egg from which I hatched! I remember how it used to be that in winter, in a foreign land, there was a native nest - and I was reluctant to sing. And now the song is bursting from the beak - even the tongue is trembling.

The Lark jumped onto a hummock, narrowed his eyes, his throat trembled - and the song flowed like a spring stream: it rang, gurgled, gurgled. Magpie and Rook opened their beaks and listened. They will never sing like that, they don’t have the same throat, all they can do is chirp and croak.

They probably would have listened for a long time, warming up in the spring sun, but suddenly the earth trembled under their feet, swelled into a tubercle and crumbled.
And the Mole looked out and sniffled.

Did you fall right into a thawed patch? That’s right: the ground is soft, warm, there is no snow. And it smells... Ugh! Does it smell like spring? Is it spring up there?

Spring, spring, digger! - Magpie shouted grumpily.
- Knew where to please! - Rook muttered suspiciously. - Even though he’s blind...
- Why do you need our thawed patch? - Lark creaked.
The Mole sniffed at the Rook, at the Magpie, at the Lark - he can’t see well with his eyes! - sneezed and said:

I don't need anything from you. And I don’t need your thawed patch. I’ll push the earth out of the hole and back. Because I feel: it’s bad for you. You quarrel and almost fight. And it’s also light, dry, and the air is fresh. Not like my dungeon: dark, damp, musty. Grace! It’s also like spring here...

How can you say that? - Lark was horrified. - Do you know, digger, what spring is!
- I don’t know and I don’t want to know! - Mole snorted. - I don’t need any spring, it’s underground all year round the same.
“Thawed patches appear in spring,” said Magpie, Lark and Rook dreamily.

And scandals begin in thawed areas,” the Mole snorted again. - And for what? A thawed patch is like a thawed patch.

Don't tell me! - Magpie jumped up. - And the seeds? And the beetles? Are the sprouts green? Without vitamins all winter.

Sit, walk, stretch! - Rook barked. - Dig your nose into the warm earth!

And it’s good to sing over thawed patches! - Lark soared. - There are as many thawed patches in the field as there are larks. And everyone sings! There is nothing better than thawed patches in spring.

Why are you arguing then? - Mole didn’t understand. - The lark wants to sing - let him sing. Rook wants to march - let him march.
- Right! - said Magpie. - In the meantime, I’ll take care of the seeds and beetles...
Then the shouting and squabbling began again.
And while they were shouting and quarreling, new thawed patches appeared in the field. Birds scattered across them to greet spring. Sing songs, rummage in the warm earth, kill a worm.

It's time for me too! - The mole said. And he fell into a place where there was no spring, no thawed patches, no sun and no moon, no wind and no rain. And where there is no one to even argue with. Where it’s always dark and quiet.”

Act out a fairy tale using a finger theater. The pictures will help you. Cut out the images and make figures with your children to act out dialogues from the fairy tale.

Interesting fairy tales - cartoons for children about spring

A fairy tale about the return of migratory birds to their homeland in the spring “Spring Tale”

Spring fairy tale - cartoon Snow Maiden

You will find all the pictures in this article in good resolution and quality in the presentation “Tales about Spring” in our VKontakte group “Child development from birth to school”(see the section of the “Documents” group under the videos). In the same section you will find and be able to download free presentations for all other articles on the “Native Path” website.

More about spring - games, pictures, materials for activities with children, speech exercises You will find in the articles on the site: Get a NEW FREE AUDIO COURSE WITH GAME APPLICATION

"Speech development from 0 to 7 years: what is important to know and what to do. Cheat sheet for parents"

Click on or on the course cover below to free subscription