Overcoming water obstacles. Overcoming water obstacles - types of crossings

1) Write out all the adjectives from the text and select antonyms for them; if not, explain why
2) Find in the text and write down cases of devoicing-voicing of consonants at the beginning and middle of words.
Text:
I crept very carefully along the forest path from aspen to aspen. There was a small one
rain and a light wind blew, the aspen foliage trembled and drops also pattered everywhere and
That’s why it was impossible to hear the sound of leaves being torn off by wood grouse. Suddenly on
While cutting down a young aspen tree, a capercaillie rose and sat down on the outermost aspen tree on the other side
clearing, two hundred and seventy steps from me. I watched him for a long time as he
often nibbles green leaves and quickly swallows them. Happened when the wind
will blow in a gust and suddenly everything will fall silent, the sound of a sheet being torn and torn reached me
wood grouse. I became acquainted with this sound in the forest.
(Don't mind the missing commas :))

1. Find sentences in which a comma is not placed before the conjunction “and” (the signs are not placed

a) The paths and beds are overgrown with burdocks and dill.

b) Someone sat down on the bench and a conversation began.

c) It was getting dark and there was a chill in the air.

d) The grandmother rocked the child and told him fairy tales.

2.Indicate sentences with connecting conjunctions.

a) You can’t sew a fur coat without thread and needles

b) the pen writes, but the mind leads

c) you also read this book

d) It rains, sometimes it rains, sometimes it doesn’t.

3. Indicate the sentences in which the highlighted words - conjunctions are written together.

a) his young sons also looked at themselves from head to toe.

b) I thanked my friend for helping me.

c) it was cold for the walk, and clouds appeared.

d) He knew the time by the way the sun moved.

Please help me find epithets in this text and write what they show? what role do they play? The hunting season was already drawing to a close when Ian

one frosty morning went to the big Pine forest. On the way he met a woodcutter. This woodcutter told Ian that he saw in the forest an important woman [an important woman is a female deer] and a giant deer, which “had a whole forest of antlers on its head.” Jan headed straight to the forest that the woodcutter had pointed out to him, and indeed soon picked up the tracks. One of them resembled the track that Ian had once seen by the stream, the other - huge - undoubtedly belonged to the Sand Hills deer. The beast awakened in Yan again: he was ready to howl, like a wolf sensing game. The tracks led through forests and hills, and along them rushed Jan, or rather the wolf into which the hunter had turned. All day the deer circled, moving from place to place in search of food, only occasionally stopping to eat a little snow, which replaced their water. All day long he followed the tracks and noted every little detail with sophisticated observation, rejoicing that the tracks this time were imprinted especially sharply on the soft snow. Freed from excess clothing and things that were in his way, Ian silently moved forward and forward. Suddenly something flashed in the distance among the bushes. "Maybe it's a bird?" - Ian thought, hiding and peering carefully. A gray object stood out slightly against the gray background of the bushes, and at first it seemed to Ian that it was just a log with gnarled branches at one end. But then the gray spot moved, the gnarled branches rose higher for a moment, and Ian trembled... It immediately became clear to him: the gray spot in the bushes was a deer, the deer of the Sandy Hills! How majestic and full of life he was! Ian looked at him in awe. Shooting at him now, when he was resting, unaware of the danger, would be a crime... But Ian had been yearning for this meeting for months. He must shoot. The emotional excitement grew, and Ian’s nerves could not stand it: the raised gun trembled in his hands, he could not aim well. His breathing became irregular, he was almost suffocating. Ian lowered the aimed gun... His whole body trembled with excitement. A few moments passed, and Yang regained control of himself. His hand no longer trembled, his eyes clearly distinguished the target. And why is he so worried - after all, in front of him is just a deer! But at that moment the deer turned its head, and Ian clearly saw his thoughtful eyes, big ears and nostrils. "Will you really decide to kill me?" - the deer seemed to say when his gaze settled on Yana. Ian was confused again. A shiver ran through his body. But he knew that it was just “hunting fever.” At that moment he despised this feeling, although later he learned to respect it. Finally, the wolf inside Ian forced him to shoot. The shot was unsuccessful. The deer jumped up; An important woman appeared next to him. Another shot - again unsuccessful... Following this, a whole series of shots... But the deer had already managed to hide, quickly jumping from one low hill to another.

Compress text by dividing it into paragraphs. At least 70 words.

The world of childhood expanded rapidly and daily. The child’s soul absorbs both evil and good equally greedily, bad and good impressions are remembered equally vividly for the rest of their lives. A.S. Pushkin wrote: “They say that misfortune is a good school, but there is happiness best university. It completes the education of a soul capable of the good and the beautiful...” The equal, kind attitude of an adult towards a child does not contradict exactingness and severity. Childhood memories are always definite and imaginative, but each person remembers something more, something less. If take spring, then, probably, almost everyone remembers the sensations associated with such activities as setting up a birdhouse with their father, grandfather or older brother. A certain elusive line in the transition from one state to another, sometimes the opposite, worries most of all in childhood. subtle connoisseurs of such elusively real states, but adults also know that the most delicious potatoes slightly crunchy, on the verge of raw and baked. A split second before jumping over an obstacle, the moment when the swing is still moving upward, but is about to begin reverse movement, the moment before falling into water or straw - all this gives rise to an incomprehensible delight of happiness and fullness of life.

The hunting season was already drawing to a close when Jan went into a large pine forest one frosty morning. On the way he met a woodcutter. This woodcutter told Ian that he saw in the forest an important woman [an important woman is a female deer] and a giant deer, which “had a whole forest of antlers on its head.” Jan headed straight to the forest that the woodcutter had pointed out to him, and indeed soon picked up the tracks. One of them resembled the track that Ian had once seen by the stream, the other - huge - undoubtedly belonged to the Sand Hills deer. The beast awakened in Yan again: he was ready to howl, like a wolf sensing game. The tracks led through forests and hills, and along them rushed Jan, or rather the wolf into which the hunter had turned. All day the deer circled, moving from place to place in search of food, only occasionally stopping to eat a little snow, which replaced their water. All day long he followed the tracks and noted every little detail with sophisticated observation, rejoicing that the tracks this time were imprinted especially sharply on the soft snow. Freed from excess clothing and things that were in his way, Ian silently moved forward and forward. Suddenly something flashed in the distance among the bushes. "Maybe it's a bird?" - Ian thought, hiding and peering carefully. A gray object stood out slightly against the gray background of the bushes, and at first it seemed to Ian that it was just a log with gnarled branches at one end. But then the gray spot moved, the gnarled branches rose higher for a moment, and Ian trembled... It immediately became clear to him: the gray spot in the bushes was a deer, the deer of the Sandy Hills! How majestic and full of life he was! Ian looked at him in awe. Shooting at him now, when he was resting, unaware of the danger, would be a crime... But Ian had been yearning for this meeting for months. He must shoot. The emotional excitement grew, and Ian’s nerves could not stand it: the raised gun trembled in his hands, he could not aim well. His breathing became irregular, he was almost suffocating. Ian lowered the aimed gun... His whole body trembled with excitement. A few moments passed, and Yang regained control of himself. His hand no longer trembled, his eyes clearly distinguished the target. And why is he so worried - after all, in front of him is just a deer! But at that moment the deer turned its head, and Ian clearly distinguished its thoughtful eyes, large ears and nostrils. "Will you really decide to kill me?" - the deer seemed to say when his gaze settled on Yana. Ian was confused again. A shiver ran through his body. But he knew that it was just “hunting fever.” At that moment he despised this feeling, although later he learned to respect it. Finally, the wolf inside Ian forced him to shoot. The shot was unsuccessful. The deer jumped up; An important woman appeared next to him. Another shot - again unsuccessful... Following this, a whole series of shots... But the deer had already managed to hide, quickly jumping from one low hill to another.

A pedestrian tourist will have to do this repeatedly during the hike or. Crossing is one of the most treacherous obstacles, requiring, in addition to knowledge, a certain skill. mountain river- a serious water obstacle.

Overcoming water obstacles - types of crossings

IN populated areas water obstacles cross bridges. In other cases crossings you have to do it yourself. Depending on the conditions, the following are transported:

ford,
according to masonry,
on a rope (the so-called suspended crossing).

Place for ford

The shallow river can be forded. Place for ford choose the widest and shallowest section of the river or where it breaks into branches - here, as a rule, the current is weaker. A sign of a ford can be a path or road that goes into the water and appears on the other side. Depending on the nature of the river and the speed of the current, the crossing is organized alone with support on a pole (the pole rests upstream) or a “wall”. To do this, participants (3-4 people) stand in a line, put their hands on each other’s shoulders and cross the river, holding tightly to the straps of their comrades’ backpacks.

Crossing streams and rivers

For crossing fast-flowing streams with steep banks need a tightrope special training and equipment. The rope with the anchor is thrown to the opposite shore, so that the anchor securely hooks onto the tree. Having pulled the rope, the other end is tied with a special knot behind a tree or stone and the crossing begins.

Streams and narrow channels with fast current and with a rocky bottom they cross the masonry, using a railing made of a stretched rope or a light pole for safety. Through rivers usually transported on a log. With appropriate insurance, this is the fastest and safest way. To establish such a crossing, one of the tourists, having previously tied himself with a rope, crosses along a log to the opposite bank of the river. The rope is then pulled tight and secured at chest height above the log. The rest of the tourists cross one by one, holding onto the rope railings. The last one unties the rope.

Laying across the river is a more reliable way of crossing. If you are not sure of the safety of this method, you should organize a canopy crossing over water obstacles, but it is much more complicated and requires great experience and the efforts of the entire group.

All the spiders froze from the cold. Their nets were knocked down by the wind and rain. But the most best networks, for which the spiders did not spare their best material, remained unharmed in the days of autumn bad weather and continued to catch everything that could move in the air. Now only leaves were flying, and so a very elegant, crimson aspen leaf with drops of dew was caught in the web. The wind rocked him in an invisible hammock. For a moment the sun came out and the dew drops on the leaf sparkled like diamonds. This caught my eye and reminded me that this autumn I, an old hunter, definitely need to get acquainted with the life of wood grouse while their biggest delicacy is an aspen leaf and, as I have heard and read more than once, in about an hour before sunset they fly to the aspen trees, peck until dark, fall asleep on the tree and in the morning they also peck a little.

I found them unexpectedly near a small clearing in big forest. While crossing the stream, my boot smacked, and that’s why a capercaillie flew off from the aspen tree right above my head. This tall aspen stood on the very edge of a clearing in the middle of the forest, and there were quite a few of them here, along with birch trees. A dispute with pines and spruces for light caused them to rise very high. A few steps from the edge of the clearing there was a forest path, rutted and black, but where the aspen stood, its foliage lay on the black as a bright, far visible pale yellow spot; It was very inconvenient to hide along these spots, because capercaillie should now only be on aspens. The cutting was very fresh, last winter, the woodpiles of firewood darkened over the summer and were buried in young aspen growth with the usual bright and very large foliage. On old aspens, the leaves have almost completely turned yellow. I crept very carefully along the path from aspen to aspen. It was raining lightly and a light wind was blowing, the aspen leaves were fluttering, rustling, drops were also pattering everywhere, and therefore it was impossible to hear the sound of the leaves being torn off by wood grouse.

Suddenly, in a clearing of a young aspen tree, a wood grouse rose up and sat down on the outermost aspen on the other side of the clearing, two hundred paces from me. I watched him for a long time as he often nibbled leaves and quickly swallowed them. It happened when the wind blew a gust, and suddenly everything fell silent, the sound of a wood grouse tearing or tearing a leaf would reach me. I became acquainted with this sound in the forest. When the wood grouse plucked the branch so much that he could not reach the good leaves, he tried to jump onto a lower branch, but it was too thin and bent, and the wood grouse moved lower, using his wings to keep himself from falling. Soon I heard the same strong cracking and noise on my side, and then again, and realized that everywhere around me, up in the aspen trees, hidden in coniferous forest, wood grouse are sitting. I realized that during the day they all walked around the clearing, caught insects, swallowed pebbles, and at night they climbed the aspen trees to feast on their favorite leaf before going to bed.

Little by little, as almost always with us, the westerly wind began to die down before sunset. The sun suddenly, with all its rays, rushed into the forest. I continued to press my palms into my ears and, among the slight trembling of aspen leaves, I heard the sound of a leaf being torn off, more dull and sharp than the echoing fall of drops. Then I carefully got up and began to hide. It was not to jump to a spring song, when the capercaillie hears nothing, entrusting himself entirely to the song, directed somewhere at the zenith. It was especially difficult to cross one large puddle, covered as if with a thick aspen leaf, but in fact very muddy and swampy. The foot had to be straightened in line with the leg, like in ballerinas, so that when taken out the dirt would not slurp. And when you quietly take your foot out of the mud and it drips into the water, it seems terribly loud. Meanwhile, a mouse runs under the foliage, and it falls apart after him, like a furrow, with such a noise that if I had done that, the capercaillie would have flown away long ago. That’s right, this sound is familiar to him, he knows that the mouse is running and doesn’t pay attention. And if a twig cracks under the fox’s foot, then, probably, he will know above that it is the fox, who is safe for him, sneaking about on his own business. But you never know what comes into a person’s head, whatever he wants, and that’s why all his noises abruptly burst into common life.

However, passion gives birth to unheard-of patience, and if there were time, it would be quite possible to achieve cat-like movements, but the deadline has been set, the sun has set, a little more, and you can’t shoot. I had no doubt whatsoever that my capercaillie was sitting on the other side of the aspen tree standing in front of me. But I wouldn’t have dared to get around it and wouldn’t have had time anyway. What to do? In the entire yellow crown of the aspen there was only one narrow window on the other side into the bright sky, and now this window will now close and then open. I realized that it was a capercaillie pecking, and it was his head that was covering him; even the beard of this capercaillie’s head was visible.

Few people know how, like me, to shoot at the very moment of the first understanding of a matter. But just at that moment there was an overload on an invisible twig under my foot, it cracked, and the window opened. And then it got even worse - sensing danger, the capercaillie began to grunt, as if cursing at me. And it also happened: another nearby wood grouse just at that time moved down from the branch and completely revealed itself to me. Due to the distance, I couldn’t shoot at him, but I also couldn’t move: he would certainly have seen. I froze on one leg, the other, having stepped on a twig, was left almost without support. And then some other wood grouse flew in to spend the night and began to sit around. One of them began to clatter and drop branches from a tall aspen tree, the same ones, cut at an angle, by which we unmistakably recognize the roosting of wood grouse. Little by little, however, my capercaillie calmed down. In all likelihood, he was sitting with his neck stretched out and looking at different sides. Soon it became completely dark below me and the mouse, who was still rustling. The capercaillie visible to me disappeared into the darkness. I believe that all the wood grouse fell asleep, hiding their bearded heads under their wings. Then I raised my numb leg, turned around and blissfully leaned my tired back against the very tree on which the capercaillie, whom I had disturbed serenely, was now sleeping.

There are no words to describe what the forest looks like in the dark, when you know that huge birds, the last relics of the era of large creatures, are sitting and sleeping above your head. And they don’t even sleep very peacefully, they moved here, scratched there, clicked there. I alone at night not only didn’t feel scared or creepy, on the contrary, it was as if I was visiting my relatives for an annual holiday. Only one thing: it was very damp and cold, otherwise I would have fallen asleep blissfully along with the wood grouse. There was a puddle somewhere nearby, and it was probably there that from the heights of huge trees, branches dropped drops one by one, there were high branches and low ones, there were large drops and small ones. When I became imbued with these sounds and understood them, everything became the most beautiful music instead of the good, ordinary one that I once enjoyed. And so, when in the wild forest everything at night settled down to the melody of the drops, suddenly an inappropriate snoring was heard.

This was not out of fear, something incongruous broke into my great concert, and I hastened to leave wild forest, where someone is snoring ugly.

When I walked through the village, people and animals were snoring everywhere, everything could be heard on the street, I paid attention to all this after that forest snoring. At home, in our closet, Seryozha, the owner’s son, was bursting into wild snoring, and in the closet, Domna Ivanovna and her whole family were in the closet. But the strangest thing I heard, among the snoring of large animals in the yard, was the subtle snoring of some other creatures and opened it in the light electric flashlight that it was geese and chickens snoring.

And even in my sleep I couldn’t stop snoring. I, as sometimes happens in a dream, remembered something that, it would seem, would never return to the light. That night all my old bird dreams returned.

And suddenly I realized that it was no one else in the forest, but a capercaillie snoring, and it was certainly him! I jumped up, set up a samovar, drank some tea, took a gun and went into the forest to my old place. I leaned my back against the same tree and froze, waiting for dawn. Now, after the chickens and geese, my hearing could clearly hear not only the snoring of the capercaillie sitting above me, but even the one next to me.

When the famous messenger of the dawn squeaked and began to turn white, the snoring stopped. A window in my aspen tree also opened, but my head did not show. A cloudless morning arose and it became light very quickly. The neighboring capercaillie moved and thereby revealed himself: I saw him completely well. He woke up and laid his head on long neck He threw it like a fist, in one direction, in the other, then suddenly opened his entire tail like a fan, as if on a current. I heard from people about autumn currents and wondered if he would start singing. But no, the tail gathered up, dropped, and the capercaillie very often began to take out the sheets. At this very time, my capercaillie probably began to vomit, because suddenly I saw his head with a beard in the window.

He was killed so perfectly that below he didn’t even move at all, he could only dig his paws firmly into the aspen bark - that’s all! And the leaves he touched took a long time to fly off. Now, thinking about snoring, I guess it's breathing big bird, coming out from under the wing, flutters loudly like some kind of feather. And, by the way, it’s true that I don’t even know whether capercaillie really sleep with their head hidden under the wing. I take this from poultry. There are many guesses and fables, but the real life of the forest is still little understood.

A stream with clean and quietly flowing water in a dream portends well-being and recovery (for the sick). A dream about a stream often predicts receiving news. See interpretation: river, water.

A dream in which you saw that the stream had dried up means: expect failure in business and bad changes. Such a dream may mean that you will soon lose your job, which gives you your livelihood (or the source of your well-being). If you dream that a clear stream flows near your house, then you will soon receive an important position.

Watching a stream run in a dream is a harbinger of a change in place of residence or lifestyle. A stream running away from you means that you will be troubled by memories of the past. If you dream that the stream has become unusually large, then great things or success await you. A very deep stream in a dream is a sign that you do not know the people with whom you communicate well. A bloody stream in a dream foreshadows great experiences due to the loss of loved ones.

Successfully crossing a stream that blocked your path foreshadows a happy ending to a matter that seemed impossible.

Interpretation of dreams from the Family Dream Book

Dream Interpretation - Stream

A stream you saw in a dream promises you new ones, vivid impressions, trips.

A full-flowing stream foreshadows a short period of worries and anxieties.

A dry stream is a dream of fleeting disappointment, followed by the fulfillment of desires.

If you took water from a stream, it means you are very unpretentious and inventive in bed. Any proposal from your partner that goes beyond the bounds of “decency” plunges you into shock. Make sure that monotony doesn’t ruin your relationship.

Interpretation of dreams from

All the spiders froze from the cold. Their nets were knocked down by the wind and rain. But the best nets, for which the spiders did not spare their best material, remained unharmed in the days of autumn bad weather and continued to catch everything that could move in the air. Now only leaves were flying, and so a very elegant, crimson aspen leaf with drops of dew was caught in the web. The wind rocked him in an invisible hammock. For a moment the sun came out and the dew drops on the leaf sparkled like diamonds. This caught my eye and reminded me that this autumn I, an old hunter, definitely need to get acquainted with the life of wood grouse while their biggest delicacy is an aspen leaf and, as I have heard and read more than once, in about an hour before sunset they fly to the aspen trees, peck until dark, fall asleep on the tree and in the morning they also peck a little.

I found them unexpectedly near a small clearing in a large forest. While crossing the stream, my boot smacked, and that’s why a capercaillie flew off from the aspen tree right above my head. This tall aspen stood on the very edge of a clearing in the middle of the forest, and there were quite a few of them here, along with birch trees. A dispute with pines and spruces for light caused them to rise very high. A few steps from the edge of the clearing there was a forest path, rutted and black, but where the aspen stood, its foliage lay on the black as a bright, far visible pale yellow spot; It was very inconvenient to hide along these spots, because capercaillie should now only be on aspens. The felling was very fresh, from the last winter; the woodpiles of firewood had darkened over the summer and were buried in young aspen growth with the usual bright and very large foliage. On old aspens, the leaves have almost completely turned yellow. I crept very carefully along the path from aspen to aspen. It was raining lightly and a light wind was blowing, the aspen leaves were fluttering, rustling, drops were also pattering everywhere, and therefore it was impossible to hear the sound of the leaves being torn off by wood grouse.

Suddenly, in a clearing of a young aspen tree, a wood grouse rose up and sat down on the outermost aspen on the other side of the clearing, two hundred paces from me. I watched him for a long time as he often nibbled leaves and quickly swallowed them. It happened when the wind blew a gust, and suddenly everything fell silent, the sound of a wood grouse tearing or tearing a leaf would reach me. I became acquainted with this sound in the forest. When the wood grouse plucked the branch so much that he could not reach the good leaves, he tried to jump onto a lower branch, but it was too thin and bent, and the wood grouse moved lower, using his wings to keep himself from falling. Soon I heard the same strong crash and noise on my side, and then again, and I realized that all around me, up in the aspens, hidden in the coniferous forest, wood grouse were sitting. I realized that during the day they all walked around the clearing, caught insects, swallowed pebbles, and at night they climbed the aspen trees to feast on their favorite leaf before going to bed.

Few people know how, like me, to shoot at the very moment of the first understanding of a matter. But just at that moment there was an overload on an invisible twig under my foot, it cracked, and the window opened. And then it got even worse - sensing danger, the capercaillie began to grunt, as if cursing at me. And it also happened: another nearby wood grouse just at that time moved down from the branch and completely revealed itself to me. Due to the distance, I couldn’t shoot at him, but I also couldn’t move: he would certainly have seen. I froze on one leg, the other, having stepped on a twig, was left almost without support. And then some other wood grouse flew in to spend the night and began to sit around. One of them began to clatter and drop branches from a tall aspen tree, the same ones, cut at an angle, by which we unmistakably recognize the roosting of wood grouse. Little by little, however, my capercaillie calmed down. In all likelihood, he was sitting with his neck stretched out and looking in different directions. Soon it became completely dark below me and the mouse, who was still rustling. The capercaillie visible to me disappeared into the darkness. I believe that all the wood grouse fell asleep, hiding their bearded heads under their wings. Then I raised my numb leg, turned around and blissfully leaned my tired back against the very tree on which the capercaillie, whom I had disturbed serenely, was now sleeping.