Interesting stories about winter that schoolchildren came up with. Children's fairy tale about winter

Mikhail Prishvin "Birds under the snow"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Walks and walks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mikhail Prishvin "Ants"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Today, a general mobilization was announced in the anthill.

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

Scout ants walked ahead.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Konstantin Ushinsky "Four Wishes"

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

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

Mitya wrote.

Spring came.

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

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

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

It's summer.

Mitya and his father went to haymaking.

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

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

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

Autumn has come.

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

Mitya was delighted and said to his father:

Autumn is the best of all seasons!

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

Georgy Skrebitsky "White coat"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That's when he needed a white coat!

It was very quiet. Everyone in the forest knew that Auntie Winter was coming and were waiting for her to come. Little Fox, Hare and Little Squirrel have never seen a winter hostess. Still would! After all, when they were born, it was warm, the whole earth was covered with a soft green carpet. So the animals have not yet had a chance to see winters, they only listened to the stories of the elders about frosts and blizzards, and could not imagine that it would once be cold and chilly.

Finally, a snow cloud appeared over the forest. The swift-footed white hare saw her first. He looked forward to the arrival of the new season, but it did not come. Finally, a snow cloud lingered over the forest, and Auntie Winter descended to the ground.

First of all, Fox Cub, Hare and Squirrel Cub saw white, silvery snow. Wow! The snowball itself is coming from somewhere above, as if some kind of machine is turned on. And through the snow, the winter hostess herself walked towards them.

- Well, forest dwellers, scared of me?
“No, Auntie, Winter,” the Hare answered first. - I have been trumping in a white fur coat for a long time, and I am waiting for your arrival.
- Well done! And you, little squirrel?
- I made a supply of nuts, hid them in a hollow and buried a few nuts in the ground.
"Commendable," said Winter. - What will the fox say? she asked sternly.
“I didn’t stock up, because I’m a hunter, my mother told me so, and I hunt all year round,” said the Little Fox. - Mom explained to me that I could hear the squeak under the snow field mouse and be sure to catch it. Because I am dexterous and my ears are sensitive. But for your arrival, Auntie Winter, I am also ready. Look what a fur coat I have, what a long winter fur she has, thick and lush. In the summer, my fur coat was completely different. And now I am not afraid of either snowstorms or cold.

Auntie Winter was very glad that the animals were well prepared for her arrival. She decided to give them a small gift. She generously sprinkled snow on clearings, edges, slopes and asked the sun to shine brighter.

Until the evening, the Little Fox, the Little Hare and the Little Squirrel frolicked in the snow-covered clearing. They played snowballs, jumped into snowdrifts, rolled down hills, ran races and jumped from snowy slopes. They never had such a wonderful holiday - the Feast of Winter.

Read the continuation of the story

On long winter evenings the best activity- reading fairy tales. Winter fairy tales for children- this is not only fascinating New Year's Eve stories, but also magic, fabulous wonders and exciting adventures. What winter fairy tales can you recommend? For different ages, it will be different fairy tales. Therefore, we will divide our review into 2 parts:

• winter fairy tales for kids
• amazing New Year's fairy tales for schoolchildren.

Winter is a wonderful time of the year. Despite the cold winds and evil blizzards, various unusual things can happen under a white blanket of snow in the forest, in the field and even in the very center of the city. So, I present to you my collection of fairy tales about winter.

Winter fairy tales for kids

Winter fairy tales for schoolchildren

This list includes fairy tales for elementary school. These are wonderful and familiar New Year's fairy tales, which are more suitable for pre-New Year and Christmas reading to schoolchildren.

This list of books winter fairy tales you can go on for a long time, but those that I have given should please your children and you, dear parents. I wish you a wonderful and interesting New Year's reading!

Stories about winter for children

in winter

Stretched out across the road and disappeared into a dense spruce forest hare footprint. Foxy, stitched. paw after paw, winds along the winter road. The squirrel crossed the road and, raising its fluffy tail, quickly waved at the green Christmas tree.
On the tops of the trees are clusters of dark purple cones. Lively forest titmouse jump over the cones, crossbills talk. And below, on the mountain ash, red-throated bullfinches scattered. Shaking off the silver frost, they took off in a flock and, like ruddy beads, sat on the branches of a bare birch.
A large well-traveled road ran past the school.
Lumberjacks-collective farmers go to the forest, and the beards of the lumberjacks are white, icicles on their mustaches. The guys are running to school, creaking with felt boots, clapping their mittens:
- Oh yes frost!
And in the forest, Frost hung lace - neither to describe with a pen, nor to tell in a fairy tale! If you accidentally catch it, diamond light dust flies on the caps.

On the Lenin Hills

Dad and mom took skis on Sunday, I took sleds, and we went to the Lenin Hills. From the Lenin Hills you can see all of Moscow and our house too.
On one mountain, the highest, little white sticks with red flags were stuck right into the snow, and as soon as the uncle waved the flag at the top, the skier would run quickly, quickly between the flags down the mountain. And my dad also went from this mountain. Mom shouted to him: "Faster, faster!"
On the other, very steep mountains, skiers jumped high, high, higher than trees, then they sank into the snow and did not fall. I was sledding, so fast that my mother on skis could not catch up with me. Once, on a hillock, the sled jumped high, and I fell, and the sled went down to the Moscow River itself, and my mother and other skiers caught them. Below, by the river, music played, beautiful red and blue flags fluttered. Many skiers ran there, overtaking each other. My dad ran ahead of everyone on skis.

Who is wintering

Look out the window. All the glass is painted with white patterns - this is how the frost painted it. It's cold outside. Everything around is covered with snow - both the ground and the roofs of houses, even on the trees - snow.
January is the most cold month, middle of winter. Ponds and rivers are iced over, fields and forests are covered with snow. The nights are long. At eight o'clock in the morning it is still dark, by nine only the sun rises. And the days in winter are very short. If you don’t get out into the street to go out to run, to play - you look, and it’s dark again.
Look into the yard on a winter morning. Sparrows are jumping in the snow, they have ruffled from the cold, fluffed up, they have become like balls. Jumping, picking up crumbs. It is also important here, crows roam waddling, jackdaws fussing between them - they are looking at what they could profit from.
They will take out a bowl of food to the dog, just put it on, and the jackdaws, the crows are right there: they are jumping around the dog, trying to snatch a piece from under the very nose. The dog will not stand it, will rush after the bird, while others are already climbing into the bowl. Someone grabs bread, someone a bone - and fly away.
In the village in winter near the house, not only these birds can be seen. Here and tits, and oatmeal, and even cautious magpies fly. They are hungry in the winter in the forest, so they fly closer to a person’s dwelling to feed.
Forest animals climbed into warm holes.
, foxes go hunting, and the bear, as soon as it lies in the den, sleeps until spring.
In winter, everyone tries to hide from the frost, from the cold, icy wind, and everyone has adapted to spend the winter in his own way.

Where do mosquitoes go in winter

For the winter, mosquitoes hid in different cracks, in old hollows. They also hibernate next to us. They will climb into the basement or cellar, many of them will gather in the corner there. Mosquitoes will cling to the ceiling with their long varnishes, to the walls and sleep all winter.

What does a woodpecker feed on in winter?

A bird lives in our forest. She herself is black with white mottles, and on the back of her head she has bright, red feathers. This bird is called the woodpecker.
In summer, the woodpecker flies through the forest all day looking for food. It will sit on a tree, but not on a branch, like other birds, but directly on the trunk and run up it, as if about a ladder. He runs, and he himself taps on the tree with his beak: knock-knock, knock-knock. It will take out a larva or a bug from under the bark and eat it.
And winter came, it became cold. All insects hid far away. What does a woodpecker feed on in winter? Look: in the snow under the tree there are many, many pine cones lying around. And what is this tree? It's oak, not pine. Where did the pine cones come from under it?
Suddenly a woodpecker flew up to the oak; holds a cone in its beak. He stuck it into a crevice in a tree and began to peck with his beak. I gouged, I chose the seeds and flew for another. He brought another, inserted it into the crevice, and pushed out the old bump. That's why a whole bunch of cones are lying around under the tree. This woodpecker feeds on their seeds in winter.

How does a hare live in winter?

Winter. Freezing. All animals hid from the fierce cold. And the hare has neither a hole nor a nest. Today he will sleep under a bush, tomorrow he will lie down in a ravine; where he digs a hole in the snow - there he has a house. But the hare's fur coat is warm, fluffy and white as snow. It’s good for him in such a fur coat - it’s warm and it’s not difficult to hide from enemies: he pressed himself in the snow - try to make out!
During the day, the hare sleeps, and when night falls, it goes out for a walk and feed.
While there is little snow in the field, he will dig it up with his paws, you look - he will find grass. And as deep snowdrifts do not sweep snowstorms, then a hare cannot dig out the snow. But in the forest, he will climb into a high snowdrift, from the bushes, from the trees, gnaw young twigs or devour the bark - that's full. And sometimes he will visit the village. He will come late in the evening, when it is quiet in the village, everyone is already sleeping, he will run up to the haystack and start pulling hay. He pulls, eats, and then runs back into the forest. And so the hare lives all winter.

About the hare

For the winter, the forest hare turns white. A winter white coat is thicker and warmer than a brown summer one. It is good for such a hare to hide from enemies. Go and see a white hare on the white snow!
The hare does not turn white immediately, but gradually. At first, it will lighten up a little. Then the hind legs turn white. From a distance you look - the hare is wearing white panties. Hunters say that about such hares: a hare in his pants.
The hare does not wear white pants for long: only a week and a half. turns white all over, so there are no pants.

How the squirrel hibernates

Squirrels in winter are not afraid of frost or wind. As the blizzard spins, bad weather - the squirrel is in a hurry to its nest.
The squirrel's nest, like that of a bird, is made of branches and twigs. Yes, how cleverly done - like a big ball, round, and a loophole on the side.
Inside the nest is lined with a dry soft bedding: it is cozy in it, warm. The squirrel will climb into the nest, and so that the cold wind does not blow, it will close the loophole with a litter. Then he curls up in a ball, covers himself with a fluffy tail and sleeps.
And outside, the icy wind howls and carries fine prickly snow. The bad weather will subside, the squirrel will crawl out of the nest, shake itself and jump from tree to tree - to get food for itself: where it picks a fir cone, where it finds a dry mushroom, which it left to dry on a bitch in the summer. But the main food of the squirrel has been stored in the pantry since autumn - in the hollow of an old tree. There she has both acorns and nuts - there are enough supplies for the whole winter.

If you don't see, you won't believe

The trees crack from the frost, and there is a nest on the tree, and in the nest the bird sits and warms the testicles.
This brave bird is a crossbill.
All birds build their nests in spring. Crossbills have their own rules. They hatch chicks when there is a lot of food. Winter, spring, summer - they don't care. It would be satisfying.
Crossbill food - seeds from spruce and pine cones. Cones hang on the tree all year round. The crossbills have enough food even in winter, there is something to feed the chicks. The nest is warm. Klestikha does not fly away from the nest; the male brings her food. The chicks hatch, and then the mother sits in the nest, warms the naked chicks, and she herself warms herself from them.
Where there are many cones, there are many crossbills. Few cones - no crossbills, they have nothing to do in such a forest: there is no food.
The noses of crossbills are special - with a cross. This nose is very convenient to pick out the seeds from the cones.
If you want to see a crossbill, look for it in a spruce forest. Don't look below, but look at the tops of the trees. You will see - there, high, high, near the cones, the birds climb the branches, near the cones, the birds climb the branches, hang upside down - here they are, crossbills! And if you listen, you will hear: "kle-kle-kle". These crossbills overlap.

How fish winter

Frost covered ponds, rivers, lakes with a thick ice cover. Only in the probe, as in an outlet, is clear, hushed water visible.
In the winter river it is gloomy and deaf. The sun does not shine through the water, the sand does not shine, water grasses do not bloom ... In deep silence among the hills and valleys of the river bottom, fish stand motionless. They stand in large herds, heads all in one direction. They don't move their fins or their tails. Only the gills rise slightly - they breathe. Even in autumn, fish gather in herds and choose a place for wintering.
In summer, the fat-headed catfish slowly walks in the deepest places, moving its long whiskers, looking out for a hole or rut that would be deeper and more spacious. He loves to lie in such holes. He will sleep during the day, and at night he goes hunting: he will grab a fish, and he will grab a crayfish, and he will eat a frog. But in winter, he lies in the pit quite motionless.
A wide, flat bream before wintering, as soon as the first ice appears near the coast, quickly rises to the surface, capsizes on its side in the water and lies like that for several minutes, as if saying goodbye to light and air. And then headlong rushes into the depths and falls to the bottom. Bream lie in rows, like firewood in a woodpile, without any movement.
Carp choose the muddy bottom and burrow into the mud. Sometimes they will find a soft hole and lie down in it with the whole herd.
A cheerful, wired perch loves stones and half-rotted trees that have fallen to the bottom. Clinging closely to each other, lowering their red fins, perches fall asleep in such places for the whole winter.
Herds of minnows and ruffs fall to the sand in a wide ribbon. Above, under the very ice, near grasses and reeds, silvery herds of roach stand motionless. Pike and pike-perch doze in rows in dark furrows.
A gluttonous pike does not sleep well. Narrow, with predatory eyes, with a huge mouth, no, no, and she will walk along the river, swallow sleepy fish. But her movements are slow, not like in summer, when she rushes at her prey like lightning.
And only one burbot walks around the river all winter long and cheerfully. He walks nimbly between sleeping fish herds, looking for and swallowing young sleepy fish.
But time will pass by spring, the sun will drive away the ice and look into the river. The fish will wake up and swim, inflating their gills ... And the burbot will no longer rush after them. Sluggish, half asleep, he will begin to look for a place to hibernate. He will hide under a stone or under a burrow and fall asleep like the dead for the whole summer, until the very frost.

Look around

Cold, hungry birds in winter. It is difficult to get food from under the snow. Collect bread crumbs, the remains of porridge, some grains, grains from the table.
Ask adults to attach a plank behind the window and pour food on it: bread crumbs, porridge leftovers, grains.
Sparrows will see your treat and fly to peck at it. And if you put a plank in the garden, not only sparrows, but titmouse and even a red-breasted bullfinch will be able to fly there. You can immediately recognize him from all the birds - his breast is bright red, and on his head it looks like a black velvet cap is put on.
The birds will get used to being fed here on a plank - they will fly in every day. And she notice what birds fly.
You probably see a crow and a jackdaw every day. But can you tell them apart?
The crow is bigger than the jackdaw. She herself is gray, wings and tail are black and on her chest - like a black vest.
And the jackdaw is all black, only there are gray feathers on the neck, it seems like a scarf is put on. And the eyes of the jackdaw are bright.
And crows and jackdaws cry in quite different ways. A crow sits on a tree or on a fence, strains, stretches its neck and shouts: “Karrr-karrr ...” And the jackdaws seem to call each other: “Jackdaw-jackdaw-jackdaw”. Perhaps that is why they are called jackdaws.
The snow is white, fluffy, and each snowflake is like a small star. It's easy to see her. As soon as it snows, go out into the yard and see what beautiful snowflakes sit on your fur coat.

And if you want to see how the snow is increasing, - cut a long stick with a sharp end and make notes on it - such that it can be seen from afar; stick a stick in the ground in the yard, where no one walks, and see how the snow will cover it higher and higher. Remember what note he will get during the winter.
And spring will come, the snow will begin to melt, fall down on a stick. When the snow melts, take a stick and measure how high the snow was in winter. Sometimes he attacks so much that he will grow taller than you during the winter.

In winter, the days are short, the sun shines little. And the closer to spring, the higher it rises in the sky and shines longer. You can check it yourself.
If the sun shines in your room in the evening before sunset, notice more precisely where its last ray was reflected on the wall - the last sunbeam. And a few days will pass, mind you, then another. So you will see that every time the bunny jumps further and further along the wall, every day it goes out later. This means that the sun in the sky shines longer and the days become longer. So, spring is coming.

Migratory birds

Birds are restless. Look how they jump from branch to branch, fly from tree to tree! But that's how a squirrel can do it, or some other animal. But only birds and not even all birds can fly away for thousands of kilometers and then return again.

Blackbirds and finches, larks and siskins, swallows and orioles, storks and cuckoos - they can. That is why they are called migratory. In the summer they live with us, build nests, breed chicks. And with the onset of cold weather, they fly away for the whole winter to hot lands, in order to return to their native places in the spring.

But crows and jackdaws, sparrows and tits, woodpeckers, magpies and doves do not fly away. They live with us all year round. And they are called settled. These birds are not afraid of frost, and they manage to get food even in the most snowy winters. And yet it is hard for them in the winter. It is especially difficult for small birds. Out of ten, maybe one or two survive until spring. And if you help the birds at this time - make a feeder, pour some grains, cereals or bread crumbs - then you will save more than one bird's life.

Interesting stories for younger schoolchildren and preschoolers about winter. winter stories for kids. Stories by N. I. Sladkov, I. S. Sokolov-Mikitov.

stories about winter nature, about the behavior of animals in nature, about the behavior of moose, about how flowers and plants survive the winter.

Dining room-hole. N. I. Sladkov.

There are such fast rivers that water does not freeze everywhere in them in winter. Near such a polynya, near living water, dipper birds love to spend the winter. All day long they fly near the polynya, sit on icy stones, squat merrily, bow and even sing. Yes, so loudly, cheerfully and diligently that even a parka breaks out of its beak! And even if it's cold, they swim, swim and dive. But all this is only until hard frost does not bind with wormwood. You can’t dive to the bottom, you can’t get water beetles and larvae. There are no songs here. Sitting on the rocks boring and hungry. This is where you need to take a long pole and break the ice in the polynya. This is not difficult: the ice is still thin, the depth under it is knee-deep, and you can hit right from the shore. And then the dippers will not fly away to another river, but will remain here to live: to catch beetles, to amuse you.

On the forest road. Author: I. S. Sokolov-Mikitov

One after another, heavy vehicles loaded with logs go along the winter road. An elk ran out of the forest.

Boldly crosses a wide well-trodden road.

The driver stopped the car, admires the strong, beautiful elk.

There are many moose in our forests. In whole herds they roam the swamps covered with snow, hiding in the bushes, in large forests.

People do not touch, do not offend moose.

Only hungry wolves sometimes dare to attack moose. Strong moose defend themselves from evil wolves with horns and hooves.

Moose in the forest are not afraid of anyone. They boldly roam the forest clearings, cross wide clearings and well-worn roads, often come close to villages and noisy cities.

Snowdrops.

What's under the snow?

Deadwood, scrap wood. Fallen leaves, needles. Horsetails and ferns, which the winterling did not beat. The frost hasn’t beaten them since autumn, it will catch on now: the earth, I suppose, froze a meter deep.

Let it be so: the snow is falling, the frost of the Christmas tree is splintering on the torch. Be that as it may, just in winter, spring is waiting in the wings. Under the snow, lingonberries are green, grass seedlings have hatched since autumn, and some stiff blade of grass in the axils of leaves swaddles the buds - they will unfold with flowers early when the snowdrifts collapse, puddles spread.

In the midst of winter, under the snow, spring: squeaking and running around, fussing and fun games. And who would have it? Yes, mice!

The vole looks exactly like a mouse. The tail is only shorter and the ears are small. The vole is on its mind, spares no effort to improve the mink: a separate bedroom and a nursery, a separate toilet and a separate pantry with a supply of edible good. There is no mink, so the nest is made of grass rags. In the moss, under the layers of wood debris, fallen leaves, passages-streets were arranged to the bushes - to gnaw the bark; to the thickets of herbs - to collect seeds; from hole to hole - to visit the neighbors to run.

Sociable voles, kept heaped. It is warm in burrows and nests. Sometimes stuffy. Therefore, loopholes are made to the surface, so that fresh air, like from a window, sip.

Darkness under the snow.

Night or day, winter or summer - what difference does it make for voles? They are warm and satisfying, the storerooms are bursting with supplies. And mice squeak in their nests...

That's how snowdrops are!