Nikolai Sladkov whose thawed patch is a summary. Forest Tales - Nikolai Sladkov

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 fairy tales 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 and 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 the 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 have a long way to go. 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 forth, again the streams splash, again they rumble... The living water sings, 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,
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 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 came!..
- 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 is dripping from them. 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,
Back and forth,
Back and forth.
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!
The warm earth also steamed. Bear pulled his nose - it smells!.. Familiar, sweet!
He began to dig the ground, turned away the turf - and there the roots were 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 from 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 came back quickly. 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 is a spring fairy tale about one such little bunny - a baby. It contains a very unusual word “cramming”, that is, making 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, look at the white snow, 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! I 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 - animals. Listen to a fairy tale about how the mothers of the little 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 just 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 discovering the amazing world of 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

Migratory birds return home in spring. 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 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 area, 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. Shoo from the thawed patch before it pecks at the top of the head!
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 maybe I was in such a hurry from the south to get to her that I almost dislocated my wings along 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 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, my underground is the same all year round.
“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? All winter without vitamins.
Sit, walk, stretch! - Rook barked. - Dig your nose into the warm earth!
And it’s good to sing over thawed patches! - the 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 of 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.

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

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She 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 area, 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’s already arrived! 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 warmed himself 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. Shoo from the thawed patch before it pecks at the top of the head!

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 maybe I was in such a hurry from the south to get to her that I almost dislocated my wings along 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, closed 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 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 couldn’t see with his eyes! - he 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! – the Mole snorted. “I don’t need any spring, my underground is the same all year round.”

“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! – Soroka jumped up. - And the seeds? And the beetles? Are the sprouts green? All winter without vitamins.

- Sit, walk around, stretch! - Rook barked. - Rip your nose in the warm earth!

- And it’s good to sing over thawed patches! - the 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 is always dark and quiet.

- Who is here? – Soroka jumped up. – Isn’t there a mushroom crawling out of the ground?

A pile of earth disintegrated, and out of it stuck out... A mole!

- Uff! - said the Mole. - Grace. It smells.

And indeed grace: sun, grass, flowers.

- But what are you happy about, blind man? – Soroka was surprised. - You don’t see anything!

- But I can smell it! - Mole was offended. – The soul freezes from the fragrances!

“Now your soul will freeze even more,” Soroka promised. - We will judge you, Mole!

- Not guilty! - Mole grunted. - Neither before the earth, nor before the sky!

- Guilty! - said Magpie. - Guilty to people! First name, last name, profession?

- I'm an ordinary mole. Hereditary digger. I live and work underground. I was born underground, I will die underground...

– You won’t pity us! - Magpie rumbled. – Why do you dig up roots in flower beds and parks? Answer!

- Guilty! I'll go blind. There are so many different roots tangled under the ground - go figure it out. Here the big-eyed one blinks. Accidentally me.

- They beat you desperately if you accidentally! Have you heard? This is not an excuse.

- He has an excuse! - Hedgehog intervened. - Let me speak for him. He does his own harm - how is that? - compensates. It eats harmful beetles and larvae, which thereby harm the roots more. This time.

- Here are two! – Soroka does not calm down. “He also litters the meadows with his molehills.” The mowers are complaining.

- Yes! - Hedgehog defends. - It clogs! But what is he like - how is it? - makes an aerial radio in the ground! You’ve never even heard a word like that, but he does it. Loosens, digs, mixes the earth. And this makes the grass grow thicker and taller. A little harm, but so much benefit! He should be on the Board of Honor, not in the dock.

- And I have a third one for him! - Soroka won’t stop. “They complain that he gnaws on potatoes and carrots in the gardens.” Answer, do you chew or not?

To which the Mole was silent, but could not bear it.

- I don’t chew! - said. And he fell silent.

And the Hedgehog burst out laughing.

- Listen! - said the Hedgehog. - So he is - how is it? - he's a como-venomous one! As I. We don't need vegetables or fruits. They will only give us a stomach ache. They speak out of ignorance. I also visit vegetable gardens at night. Not for carrots, but for larvae and slugs. So is Mole. And he also carries out aeration there. I saw it with my own eyes.

- Shut up! - said Magpie. “Your learned words even gave me a headache.” Fail, Mole, along with your aeration!

And the Mole failed, as if it had never happened.

- I'm hungry! – Hedgehog giggled. - I went to do aeration, well done. Diligent - just like me.

The birds and animals have suffered through a hard winter. Every day there is a snowstorm, every night there is frost. Winter has no end in sight. The Bear fell asleep in his den. He probably forgot that it was time for him to turn over to the other side.

There is a forest sign: as the Bear turns over on its other side, the sun will turn towards summer.

The birds and animals have run out of patience. Let's go wake up the Bear:

- Hey, Bear, it's time! Everyone is tired of winter! We miss the sun. Roll over, roll over, maybe you'll get bed sores?

The bear didn’t answer at all: he didn’t move, he didn’t move. Know he's snoring.

- Eh, I should hit him in the back of the head! - exclaimed the Woodpecker. - I suppose he would move right away!

“No,” mumbled Elk, “you have to be respectful and respectful with him.” Hey, Mikhailo Potapych! Hear us, we tearfully ask and beg you: turn over, at least slowly, on the other side! Life is not sweet. We, elk, are standing in the aspen forest, like cows in a stall: we cannot take a step to the side. There's a lot of snow in the forest! It will be a disaster if the wolves get wind of us.

The bear moved his ear and grumbled through his teeth:

- What do I care about you moose! Deep snow is good for me: it’s warm and I sleep peacefully.

Here the White Partridge began to lament:

- Aren’t you ashamed, Bear? All the berries, all the bushes with buds were covered with snow - what do you want us to peck? Well, why should you turn over on the other side and hurry up the winter? Hop - and you're done!

And the Bear has his:

- It’s even funny! You're tired of winter, but I'm turning over from side to side! Well, what do I care about buds and berries? I have a reserve of lard under my skin.

The squirrel endured and endured, but could not bear it:

- Oh, you shaggy mattress, he’s too lazy to turn over, you see! But you would jump on the branches with ice cream, you would skin your paws until they bleed, like me!.. Turn over, couch potato, I count to three: one, two, three!

- Four five six! - the Bear taunts. - I scared you! Well - shoot off! You're preventing me from sleeping.

The animals tucked their tails, the birds hung their noses, and began to disperse. And then the Mouse suddenly stuck out of the snow and squeaked:

– They’re so big, but you’re scared? Is it really necessary to talk to him, the bobtail, like that? He doesn’t understand either for good or for bad. You have to deal with him like us, like a mouse. You ask me - I’ll turn it over in an instant!

– Are you a Bear?! - the animals gasped.

- With one left paw! - the Mouse boasts.

The Mouse darted into the den - let's tickle the Bear.

Runs all over it, scratches it with its claws, bites it with its teeth. The Bear twitched, squealed like a pig, and kicked his legs.

- Oh, I can’t! - howls. - Oh, I’ll roll over, just don’t tickle me! Oh-ho-ho-ho! A-ha-ha-ha!

And the steam from the den is like smoke from a chimney.

The mouse stuck out and squeaked:

– He turned over like a little darling! They would have told me a long time ago.

Well, as soon as the Bear turned over on the other side, the sun immediately turned to summer. Every day the sun is higher, every day spring is closer. Every day is brighter and more fun in the forest!

Forest rustles

Perch and Burbot

Where's the place under the ice? All the fish are sleepy - you are the only one, Burbot, cheerful and playful. What's the matter with you, huh?

- And the fact that for all fish in winter it’s winter, but for me, Burbot, in winter it’s summer! You perches are dozing, and we burbots are playing weddings, swording caviar, rejoicing and having fun!

- Let's go, brother perches, to Burbot's wedding! Let’s wake up our sleep, have some fun, snack on burbot caviar...

Otter and Raven

- Tell me, Raven, wise bird, why do people burn a fire in the forest?

“I didn’t expect such a question from you, Otter.” We got wet in the stream and froze, so we lit a fire. They warm themselves by the fire.

- Strange... But in winter I always warm myself in water. There is never frost in the water!

Hare and Vole

– Frost and blizzard, snow and cold. If you want to smell the green grass, nibble on the juicy leaves, wait until spring. Where else is that spring - beyond the mountains and beyond the seas...

- Not beyond the seas, Hare, spring is just around the corner, but under your feet! Dig the snow down to the ground - there are green lingonberries, mantleberries, strawberries, and dandelions. And you smell it, and you get full.

Badger and Bear

- What, Bear, are you still sleeping?

- I'm sleeping, Badger, I'm sleeping. So, brother, I got up to speed - it’s been five months without waking up. All sides have rested!

- Or maybe, Bear, it’s time for us to get up?

- It's not time. Sleep some more.

- Won’t you and I sleep through the spring from the start?

- Don't be afraid! She, brother, will wake you up.

“Will she knock on our door, sing a song, or maybe tickle our heels?” I, Misha, fear is so hard to rise!

- Wow! You'll probably jump up! She, Borya, will give you a bucket of water under your sides - I bet you won’t stay too long! Sleep while you're dry.

Magpie and Dipper

- Oooh, Olyapka, you don’t even think about swimming in the ice hole?!

- And swim and dive!

-Are you going to freeze?

- My pen is warm!

- Will you get wet?

– My pen is water-repellent!

-Will you drown?

- I can swim!

- A … A … Do you get hungry after swimming?

“That’s why I dive, to eat a water bug!”

Winter debts

The Sparrow was chirping on the dung heap - and he was jumping up and down! And the Crow croaks in his nasty voice:

- Why, Sparrow, were you happy, why were you chirping?

“The wings itch, Crow, the nose itches,” Sparrow answers. - The passion to fight is the hunt! Don’t croak here, don’t spoil my spring mood!

- But I’ll ruin it! - Crow is not far behind. - How can I ask a question?

- I scared you!

- And I’ll scare you. Did you peck crumbs in the trash bin in winter?

- Pecked.

– Did you pick up grains from the barnyard?

- I picked it up.

-Did you have lunch in the bird cafeteria near the school?

- Thanks to the guys, they fed me.

- That's it! - Crow bursts into tears. – How do you think you will pay for all this? With your chirping?

- Am I the only one who used it? - Sparrow was confused. - And the Tit was there, and the Woodpecker, and the Magpie, and the Jackdaw. And you, Vorona, were...

– Don’t confuse others! - Crow wheezes. - You answer for yourself. If you borrowed money, pay it back! As all decent birds do.

“The decent ones, maybe they do,” Sparrow got angry. - But are you doing this, Vorona?

- I’ll cry before anyone else! Do you hear a tractor plowing in the field? And behind him, I pick out all sorts of root beetles and root rodents from the furrow. And Magpie and Galka help me. And looking at us, other birds are also trying.

– Don’t vouch for others either! - Sparrow insists. – Others may have forgotten to think.

But Crow doesn’t let up:

- Fly over and check it out!

Sparrow flew to check. He flew into the garden - the Tit lives there in a new nest.

– Congratulations on your housewarming! - Sparrow says. – In my joy, I suppose I forgot about my debts!

- I haven’t forgotten, Sparrow, that you are! - Titmouse answers. “The guys treated me to delicious salsa in the winter, and in the fall I’ll treat them to sweet apples.” I protect the garden from codling moths and leaf-eaters.

- For what need, Sparrow, did he fly to my forest?

“Yes, they demand payment from me,” Sparrow tweets. - And you, Woodpecker, how do you pay? A?

“That’s how I try,” answers the Woodpecker. – I protect the forest from wood borers and bark beetles. I fight them tooth and nail! I even got fat...

“Look,” Sparrow thought. - I thought...

Sparrow returned to the dung heap and said to Crow:

- Yours, hag, the truth! Everyone is paying off winter debts. Am I worse than others? How can I start feeding my chicks mosquitoes, horseflies and flies! So that the bloodsuckers don't bite these guys! I'll pay back my debts in no time!

He said so and let’s jump up and chirp on the dung heap again. While there is free time. Until the sparrows in the nest hatched.

Polite jackdaw

I have many acquaintances among wild birds. I know only one sparrow. He is all white - an albino. You can immediately tell him apart in a flock of sparrows: everyone is gray, but he is white.

I know Soroka. I distinguish this one by its impudence. In winter, it used to be that people would hang food outside the window, and she would immediately fly in and ruin everything.

But I noticed one jackdaw for her politeness.

There was a snowstorm.

In early spring there are special snowstorms - sunny ones. Snow whirlwinds swirl in the air, everything sparkles and rushes! Stone houses look like rocks. There is a storm at the top, snowy waterfalls flow from the roofs as if from mountains. Icicles from the wind grow in different directions, like the shaggy beard of Santa Claus.

And above the cornice, under the roof, there is a secluded place. There, two bricks fell out of the wall. My jackdaw settled in this recess. All black, only a gray collar on the neck. The jackdaw was basking in the sun and also pecking at some tasty morsel. Cubby!

If this jackdaw were me, I would not give up such a place to anyone!

And suddenly I see: another one, smaller and duller in color, flies up to my big jackdaw. Jump and jump along the ledge. Twist your tail! She sat down opposite my jackdaw and looked. The wind flutters it - it breaks its feathers, and whips it into white grain!

My jackdaw grabbed a piece of it in his beak - and walked out of the recess onto the cornice! She gave up the warm place to a stranger!

And someone else's jackdaw grabs a piece from my beak - and goes to her warm place. She pressed someone else's piece with her paw and it pecked. What a shameless one!

My jackdaw is on the ledge - under the snow, in the wind, without food. The snow whips her, the wind breaks her feathers. And she, the fool, endures it! Doesn't kick out the little one.

“Probably,” I think, “the alien jackdaw is very old, so they give way to it. Or maybe this is a well-known and respected jackdaw? Or maybe she’s small and remote – a fighter.” I didn’t understand anything then...

And recently I saw: both jackdaws - mine and someone else's - sitting side by side on an old chimney and both had twigs in their beaks.

Hey, they're building a nest together! Everyone will understand this.

And the little jackdaw is not at all old and not a fighter. And she’s no stranger now.

And my friend the big jackdaw is not a jackdaw at all, but a gal!

But still, my gal friend is very polite. This is the first time I've seen this.

Grouse notes

The black grouse are not singing in the forests yet. They're just writing notes. This is how they write notes. One flies from a birch tree into a white clearing, puffs up its neck like a rooster. And his feet mince in the snow, mince. It drags its half-bent wings, furrows the snow with its wings - it draws lines of music.

The second black grouse will fly off and follow the first one through the snow! So he will place dots with his feet on the musical lines: “Do-re-mi-fa-sol-la-si!”

The first one goes straight into the fray: don’t interfere with my writing! He snorts at the second one and follows his lines: “Si-la-sol-fa-mi-re-do!”

He'll chase you away, raise his head up, and think. He mutters, mumbles, turns back and forth and writes down his muttering with his paws on his lines. For memory.

Fun! They walk, run, and trace the snow with their wings onto musical lines. They mutter, mutter, and compose. They compose their spring songs and write them down in the snow with their legs and wings.

But soon the black grouse will stop composing songs and start learning them. Then they will fly up into the tall birch trees - you can clearly see the notes from above! - and start singing. Everyone will sing the same way, everyone has the same notes: grooves and crosses, crosses and grooves.

They learn and unlearn everything until the snow melts. And it will do, no problem: they sing from memory. They sing during the day, they sing in the evening, but especially in the morning.

They sing great, right on cue!

Whose thawed patch?

She 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 area, 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’s already arrived! 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!

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 maybe I was in such a hurry from the south to get to her that I almost dislocated my wings along the way.

They probably 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 couldn’t see with his eyes! - he sneezed and said:

- 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! – the Mole snorted. “I don’t need any spring, my underground is the same all year round.”

“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! – Soroka jumped up. - And the seeds? And the beetles? Are the sprouts green? All winter without vitamins.

- Sit, walk around, stretch! - Rook barked. - Rip your nose in the warm earth!

- And it’s good to sing over thawed patches! - the 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.

I have many acquaintances among wild birds. I know only one sparrow. He is all white - an albino. You can immediately tell him apart in a flock of sparrows: everyone is gray, but he is white.

I know Soroka. I distinguish this one by its impudence. In winter, it used to be that people would hang food outside the window, and she would immediately fly in and ruin everything.

But I noticed one jackdaw for her politeness.

There was a snowstorm.
In early spring there are special snowstorms - sunny ones. Snow whirlwinds swirl in the air, everything sparkles and rushes! Stone houses look like rocks. There is a storm at the top, snowy waterfalls flow from the roofs as if from mountains. Icicles from the wind grow in different directions, like the shaggy beard of Santa Claus.