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ttling down to the day’s work。 Nobody can resist the windows。 It is like being on board a ship。 电子书 分享网站
初 雪（3）
When I got up this morning the world was a chilled hollow of dead white and faint blues。 The light that came through the windows was very queer； and it contrived to make the familiar business of splashing and shaving and brushing and dressing very queer too。 Then the sun came out； and by the time I had sat down to breakfast。 It was shining bravely and flushing the snow with delicate5 pinks。 The dining room window had been transformed into a lovely Japanese print。 The little plum…tree outside； with the faintly flushed snow lining its boughs and artfully disposed along its trunk； stood in full sunlight。 An hour or two later everything was a cold glitter of white and blue。 The world had pletely changed again。 The little Japanese prints had all vanished。 I looked out of my study window； over the garden； the meadow； to the low hills beyond； and the ground was one long glare； the sky was steely； and all the trees so many black and sinister shapes。 There was indeed something curiously sinister about the whole prospect。 It was as if our kindly country…side； close to the very heart of England； had been turned into a cruel steppe。 At any moment； it seemed； a body of horsemen might be seen breaking out from the black copse； so many instruments of tyranny might be heard and some distant patch of snow be reddened。 It was that kind of landscape。
Now it has changed again。 The glare has gone and no touch of the sinister remains。 But the snow is falling heavily； in great soft flakes； so that you can hardly see across the shallow valley； and the roofs are thick and the trees all bending； and the weathercock of the village church； still to be seen through the grey loaded air； has bee some creature out of Hans Andersen。 From my study； which is part from the house and faces it； I can see the children flattening their noses against the nursery window； and there is running through my head a jangle of rhyme I used to repeat when I was a child and flattened my nose against the cold window watching the falling snow：
Snow； snow faster：
White alabaster！
Killing geese in Scotland；
Sending feathers here！
暴风雨礼赞（1）
佚名
一种沉静的感觉悄然爬上心头，我感到世间万物突然变得安静下来。鸟儿止住了啁啾，树叶不再沙沙作响，昆虫也停止了鸣唱。
干燥炎热了一天的空气，这时渐渐阴沉起来。它悬挂在树梢上，把花朵都压低了，也压在我的肩头。我隐约感到有些不安，于是走到窗前，发现西天边的云朵层峦叠嶂，形成了一座座威严的白塔，直通蓝天。
云朵耀眼的白光瞬间消失。转眼间，棉花糖似的云团像铁砧一般铺展开来，尽显它阴冷的本性。西斜的太阳被它挡住了，于是天早早地暗了下来。紧接着，狂风突起，路上的尘土被它席卷而起，空气变得凉飕飕的，预示着即将到来的一切。
砰的一声，风把一扇房门关上了，窗帘也随之鼓起，在房间里翻腾着。我赶紧跑去关上窗户，收好晾晒的衣服，盖好院子里的家具。这时，隆隆的雷声开始从远处传来。
大滴的雨点开始落下来。雨滴不断地砸入尘土，在窗户上涂上点点印记。它们打在烟囱上，发出叮叮当当的响声；砸在露台的顶棚上，也是乒乒乓乓直响。树叶似乎也抵挡不住雨点的打压，在风雨中摇曳着不敢抬起头来。人行道也仿佛穿上了一件缀满闪亮的雨滴的外衣。
雨点下落的节奏更快了，叮当声、乒乓声，一阵接一阵，最终成了紧凑的鼓声。点点雨滴也汇成浩荡大军，覆盖了田野和屋顶。就在这时，天堂的感叹号——第一道闪电劈向大地，暴风雨来了！
紧接着的一个霹雳，吓得我跳了起来。这一声雷把窗户的玻璃都震得咯咯作响，小狗也吓得直往床底下钻。第二道闪电来得更近，我吓得毛发竖起，情不自禁地从窗口向后退了一步。此刻，雨点倾盆而泻，愈加猛烈地摆弄着雨点。风雨交织着，毫无顾忌地抽打着树木，打压着小草。雨水溢出了排水沟，从屋顶喷涌而出，不断地泼洒在窗户上。除了雨水，我无法看清外面的世界。真不明白，这么多雨水，怎么会下得如此急？那么云朵又是如何撑起这巨大重量的？大地又怎能承受得了？
我在屋里转来转去，从一个窗口走到另一个窗口。我不禁为窗外的情景惊讶不已：那些紫丁香在暴风雨的攻击下弯了腰，百合花倒伏在地上，山坡的石阶小道变成了一帘全新的瀑布！这时，屋顶上传来乒乒乓乓的声音——开始下冰雹了。这些银色的小球在草地上恣意狂舞，落到水洼里溅起许多水花。我开始为菜园、果树和地里的庄稼担心起来。幸好，上帝保佑，这场冰雹还不算大，数目也不算多，不足以造成什么损害。
暴风雨快要结束了。紧张的空气缓和下来，透过雨幕的光线也多起来。暴风雨已经消耗了大部分的精力，那点余威只有到东边的乡间去炫耀了。
尽管雨还没有停，我早已禁不住跑到屋外了。四周荡漾着清爽宜人的气息。我尽情地呼吸着新鲜的空气，看着一缕缕穿过云隙的阳光。有一束阳光刚好照在屋檐的水珠上，形成了一条细小的、颤动的七色彩带——这是上天赋予我的独有的彩虹。
我小心翼翼地穿过湿漉漉的草地，双脚没在雨水浸泡过的泥土里。阴沟里的小溪满载着昏黄的泥水欢快地奔涌向前，而那些小水洼却早已流入地下，不见踪迹了。每一片树叶，每一片草叶，每块砖头，每片瓦片都被冲洗得新鲜干净、光亮艳丽。
像大地一样，我也焕然一新，灵魂得到了净化，心情变得平静安逸起来。一时间，忘记了积聚在心里的忧愁和恼恨，似乎它们已经被这壮观的暴风雨冲刷得无影无踪了。
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暴风雨是激烈的，是强劲的，它洗刷着大地的万物，它使我的灵魂得到了净化，心情变得平静安逸。那忧愁和恼恨，被这壮观的暴风雨冲刷得无影无踪了。暴风雨来得猛烈，绝不会向大地妥协，它风驰电掣，从不放过世间任何一个角落。 电子书 分享网站
暴风雨礼赞（2）
Glories of the Storm
Anoymous
It begins when a feeling of stillness creeps into my consciousness。 Everything has suddenly gone quiet。 Birds do not chirp。 Leaves do not rustle。 Insects do not sing。
The air that has been hot all day bees heavy。 It hangs over the trees； presses the heads of the flowers to the ground； sits on my shoulders。 With a vague feeling of uneasiness I move to the window。 There； in the west； lies the answer—cloud has piled on cloud to form a ridge of mammoth white towers； rearing against blue sky。
Their piercing whiteness is of brief duration。 Soon the marshmarrow rims flatten to anvil tops； and the clouds reveal their darker nature。 They impose themselves before the late…afternoon sun； and the day darkens early。 Then a gust of wind whips the dust along the road； chill warning of what is to e。
In the house a door shuts with a bang； curtains billow into the room。 I rush to close the windows； empty the clothesline； secure the patio furnishing。 Thunder begins to grumble in the distance。
The first drops of rain are huge。 They splat into the dust and imprint the windows with the individual signatures。 They plink on the vent pipe and plunk on the patio roof。 Leaves shudder under their weight before rebounding； and the sidewalk wears a coat of shiny spots。
The rhythm accelerates； plink follows faster and faster until the sound is a roll of drums and the individual drops bee an army marching over fields and rooftops。 Now the first bolt of lightning stabs the earth。 It is heaven’s exclamation point。 The storm is here！
In spite of myself； I jump at the following crack of thunder。 It rattles the windowpane and sends the dog scratching to get under the bed。 The next bolt is even closer。 It raises the hair on the back of my neck； and I take an involuntary step away from the window。
The rain now bees a torrent； flung capriciously by a rising wind。 Together they batter the trees and level the grasses。 Water streams off roofs and out of rain spouts。 It pounds against the window in such a steady wash that I am sightless。 There is only water。 How can so much fall so fast？ How could the clouds have supported this vast weight？ How can the earth endure beneath it？
Pacing through the house from window to window； I am moved to open…mouthed wonder。 Look how the lilac bends under the assault； how the day lilies are flattened； how the hillside steps are a newmade waterfall！ Now hailstones thumps upon the roof。 They bounce white against the grass and splash into the puddles。 I think of the vegetable garden； the fruit trees； the crops in the fields； but； thankfully； the hailstones are not enough in numbers or size to do real damage。 Not this time。
For this storm is already beginning to pass。 The tension is released from the atmosphere； the curtains of rain let in more light。 The storm has spent most of its energy； and what is left will be expended on the countryside to the east。
I am drawn outside while the rain still falls。 All around； there is a cool and wele feeling。 I breathe deeply and watch the sun’s rays streak through breaking clouds。 One ray catches the drops that form on the edge of the roof； and I am treated to a row of tiny； quivering colors—my private rainbow。
I pick my way through the wet grass； my feet sinking into the satuarated soil。 The creek in the gully runs bankfull of brown water； but the small lakes and puddles are already disappearing into the earth。 Every leaf； brick； shingle and blade of grass is fresh…washed and shining。
Like the land； I am renewed； my spirit cleansed。 I feel an infinite peace。 For a time I have forgotten the worries and irritations I was nurturing before。 They have been washed away by the glories of the storm。
。。
人与自然
＇美国＇汉密尔顿·怀特·马堡
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汉密尔顿·怀特·马堡（1846—1916），美国著名批评家、散文家。人与自然的关系是人们永远关注的主题，马堡也不例外，他在本篇中对人与自然关系的阐述，让我们获益匪浅。
从地球上出现人类起，人与自然之间的亲密关系也随之展开，而且不断地被发扬光大，这种关系每一世纪都比以前变得更为明智