Spruce and pine. About two hundred years ago, the wind-sower brought two seeds to the Fornication swamp: a pine seed and a spruce seed. Both seeds fell into one hole near a large flat stone ... Since then, for perhaps two hundred years, these spruce and pine trees have been growing together. Their roots were intertwined from infancy, their trunks stretched up next to the light, trying to overtake each other ... Trees of different species fought among themselves with roots for food, with branches - for air and light.
Slide 37 from the presentation "Mikhail Mikhailovich Prishvin". The size of the archive with the presentation is 1196 KB.Literature grade 4
summary of other presentations"Tasks for literary reading" - A. I. Kuprin "Barbos and Zhulka." Learn from the description. Find a couple. Name the work. Steep coast. Clots of wool. Haircut Creak. Ears. M.M. Prishvin "Upstart". Human. D. N. Mamin-Sibiryak "Acceptant". Difficult words. Lost and found. Ask a Question. She was small. E.I. Charushin "Boar". Literary reading. Good mother. Festoon. Saima. Nature and us.
""Kuprin" 4th grade" - House of Creativity, Golitsyno. Let's play. Pets. Kuprin Alexander Ivanovich. Creation. Hurry up to read. Mother, Lyubov Alekseevna. Cadet, 1880 Pages of life and creativity. Journals, manuscripts. Years of life: 1870 - 1938. In the office. During the travel years. In a diving suit. Vocabulary - lexical work. House-Museum, Narovchat. Questions for the crossword. Explain the expression. Pages of the life and work of AI Kuprin.
"The story" Basket with fir cones "" - Fir cones. Basket with fir cones. House of Edvard Grieg. Locality. Edward Grieg. Paustovsky Konstantin Georgievich. Read the passage. Dagny. How should a person live? The ability of students to summarize and analyze the read text. Life is amazing and wonderful.
"A series of books" School Library "" - The Way. Little water. About Vera and Anfisa. A story about lost time. White Fang. Kid and Carlson. Denis' stories. In a land of unlearned lessons. Uncle Fyodor's favorite girl. Chekhov's stories. Kingdom of Crooked Mirrors. Adventures of Tom Sawyer. The Wizard of Oz. A series of books "School Library". Stories about nature. Book. Adventure Electronics. Young friends. Uncle Fedor, dog and cat.
"Fables of Ivan Andreevich Krylov" - Fables in Russian literature. And together the three all harnessed themselves to it; out of their skin. Who is the founder of the fable. We got acquainted with the fable genre. Along the paths of the fable. With fun, he corrected people, sweeping dust from their vices. Quiz. From which fables are the words. Krylov is a Russian fabulist. Stages of work. Moral of the fable. A fable is a short, often poetic story. What fables are these characters from? We constantly encounter well-known Krylov characters.
"Composition based on the painting "Golden Autumn"" - Perception of the picture. What surrounds you. Gold autumn. Composition based on the painting by I.I. Levitan. What day did the artist depict. Task for the development of creative imagination. Vocabulary and spelling work. How the artist shows the approach of autumn. Essay writing. Singer of Russian nature.
SOS I just can’t find an excerpt from Prishvin Sosna’s story “The pantry of the sun”
Answer from Vlad[guru]
Answer from Vadim Znak[newbie]
About two hundred years ago, the wind-sower brought two seeds to the Fornication swamp: a pine seed and a spruce seed. Both seeds fell into one hole near a large flat stone ... Since then, for perhaps two hundred years, these spruce and pine have been growing together. Their roots have intertwined since childhood, their trunks stretched up close to the light, trying to overtake each other. Trees of different species terribly fought among themselves with roots for food, with branches for air and light. Rising higher, thickening their trunks, they dug dry branches into living trunks and in places pierced each other through and through. An evil wind, having arranged such an unhappy life for the trees, sometimes flew here to shake them. And then the trees groaned and howled at the whole Fornication swamp, like living beings. Before that, it looked like the groan and howl of living beings that the fox, curled up on a moss tussock into a ball, raised its sharp muzzle up. This groan and howl of pine and spruce was so close to living beings that a feral dog in the Fornication swamp, hearing it, howled from longing for a person, and a wolf howled from inescapable malice towards him.
Answer from Krytoy krytovich[newbie]
I liked the guys from me like thank you who wrote it helped me
Answer from Ivan Nasuletsky[newbie]
thanks bl helped a lot!
Answer from Nikita Skvortsov[newbie]
About two hundred years ago, the wind-sower brought two seeds to the Fornication swamp: a pine seed and a spruce seed. Both seeds fell into one hole near a large flat stone ... Since then, for perhaps two hundred years, these spruce and pine have been growing together. Their roots have intertwined since childhood, their trunks stretched up close to the light, trying to overtake each other. Trees of different species terribly fought among themselves with roots for food, with branches for air and light. Rising higher, thickening their trunks, they dug dry branches into living trunks and in places pierced each other through and through. An evil wind, having arranged such an unhappy life for the trees, sometimes flew here to shake them. And then the trees groaned and howled at the whole Fornication swamp, like living beings. Before that, it looked like the groan and howl of living beings that the fox, curled up on a moss tussock into a ball, raised its sharp muzzle up. This groan and howl of pine and spruce was so close to living beings that a feral dog in the Fornication swamp, hearing it, howled from longing for a person, and a wolf howled from inescapable malice towards him.
Answer from Vera Tkacheva[newbie]
About two hundred years ago, the wind-sower brought two seeds to the Fornication swamp: a pine seed and a spruce seed. Both seeds fell into one hole near a large flat stone ... Since then, for perhaps two hundred years, these spruce and pine have been growing together. Their roots have intertwined since childhood, their trunks stretched up close to the light, trying to overtake each other. Trees of different species terribly fought among themselves with roots for food, with branches for air and light. Rising higher, thickening their trunks, they dug dry branches into living trunks and in places pierced each other through and through. An evil wind, having arranged such an unhappy life for the trees, sometimes flew here to shake them. And then the trees groaned and howled at the whole Fornication swamp, like living beings. Before that, it looked like the groan and howl of living beings that the fox, curled up on a moss tussock into a ball, raised its sharp muzzle up. This groan and howl of pine and spruce was so close to living beings that a feral dog in the Fornication swamp, hearing it, howled from longing for a person, and a wolf howled from inescapable malice towards him.
About two hundred years ago, the wind-sower brought two seeds to the Fornication swamp: a pine seed and a spruce seed. Both seeds fell into one hole near a large flat stone ... Since then, for perhaps two hundred years, these spruce and pine have been growing together. Their roots have intertwined since childhood, their trunks stretched up close to the light, trying to overtake each other. Trees of different species terribly fought among themselves with roots for food, with branches for air and light. Rising higher, thickening their trunks, they dug dry branches into living trunks and in places pierced each other through and through. An evil wind, having arranged such an unhappy life for the trees, sometimes flew here to shake them. And then the trees groaned and howled at the whole Fornication swamp, like living creatures. Before that, it looked like the groan and howl of living beings that the fox, curled up on a moss tussock into a ball, raised its sharp muzzle up. This groan and howl of pine and spruce was so close to living beings that a feral dog in the Fornication swamp, hearing it, howled from longing for a person, and a wolf howled from inescapable malice towards him.
The children came here, to the Lying Stone, at the very time when the first rays of the sun, flying over the low, gnarled swamp fir-trees and birch trees, illuminated the Ringing Borin and the mighty trunks of the pine forest became like lit candles of the great temple of nature. From there, here, to this flat stone, where the children sat down to rest, faintly came the singing of birds, dedicated to the rising of the great sun. And the bright rays flying over the heads of the children did not yet warm. The swampy land was all in a chill, small puddles were covered with white ice.
It was quite quiet in nature, and the children, who were cold, were so quiet that the black grouse Kosach paid no attention to them. He sat down at the very top, where the boughs of pine and boughs of spruce formed like a bridge between two trees. Having settled down on this bridge, which was rather wide for him, closer to the spruce, Kosach seemed to begin to bloom in the rays of the rising sun. On his head, the comb caught fire like a fiery flower. His chest, blue in the depths of black, began to pour from blue to green. And his rainbow-colored, lyre-spread tail became especially beautiful. Seeing the sun over the miserable swamp fir-trees, he suddenly jumped up on his high bridge, showed his purest white linen of undertails, underwings and shouted:
- Chuf! Shi!
In grouse, “chuf” most likely meant “sun”, and “shi” probably had our “hello”.
In response to this first chirping of Kosach-tokovik, the same chirping with flapping wings was heard far across the swamp, and soon dozens of large birds began to fly in and land near the Lying Stone from all sides, like two drops of water similar to Kosach.
The children sat with bated breath on the cold stone, waiting for the rays of the sun to come to them and warm them at least a little. And now the first ray, gliding over the tops of the nearest, very small Christmas trees, finally played on the children's cheeks. Then the upper Kosach, greeting the sun, stopped jumping up and down. He squatted low on the bridge at the top of the tree, stretched his long neck along the bough, and began a long, brook-like song. In response to him, somewhere nearby, dozens of the same birds sitting on the ground, each rooster, too, stretched out its neck, began to sing the same song. And then, as if already quite a large stream, muttering, ran over invisible pebbles.
How many times have we, the hunters, after waiting for the dark morning, at the chilly dawn listened with trepidation to this singing, trying in our own way to understand what the roosters are singing about. And when we repeated their mutterings in our own way, we got:
cool feathers,
Ur-gur-gu,
cool feathers,
Obor-woo, I will break off.
So the black grouse muttered in unison, intending to fight at the same time. And while they were muttering like that, a small event happened in the depths of the dense spruce crown. There a crow sat on a nest and hid there all the time from Kosach, who was swimming almost near the nest itself. The crow would very much like to drive Kosach away, but she was afraid to leave the nest and cool the eggs in the morning frost. The male crow guarding the nest at that time was making its flight and, having probably met something suspicious, lingered. The crow, waiting for the male, lay in the nest, was quieter than water, lower than grass. And suddenly, seeing the male flying back, she shouted her own:
This meant for her:
"Rescue!"
— Kra! - answered the male in the direction of the current, in the sense that it is still unknown who will cut off the twisted feathers for whom.
The male, immediately realizing what was the matter, went down and sat down on the same bridge, near the fir tree, at the very nest where Kosach was lekking, only closer to the pine tree, and began to wait.
Kosach at this time, not paying any attention to the male crow, called out his own, known to all hunters:
— Kar-ker-cupcake!
And this was the signal for a general fight of all the current roosters. Well, the cool feathers flew in all directions! And then, as if on the same signal, the male crow, with small steps along the bridge, imperceptibly began to approach Kosach.
Motionless as statues, hunters for sweet cranberries sat on a stone. The sun, so hot and clear, came out against them over the swamp fir trees. But there was one cloud in the sky at that time. It appeared like a cold blue arrow and crossed the rising sun in half. At the same time, suddenly the wind jerked, the tree pressed against the pine tree, and the pine tree groaned. The wind blew once more, and then the pine pressed, and the spruce roared.
At this time, having rested on a stone and warmed up in the rays of the sun, Nastya and Mitrasha got up to continue on their way. But at the very stone, a rather wide swamp path forked: one, good, dense, the path went to the right, the other, weak, went straight.
Having checked the direction of the paths on the compass, Mitrasha, pointing to a weak path, said:
“We need to follow this one to the north.
- It's not a trail! - answered Nastya.
- Here's another! Mitrasha got angry. - People were walking, which means the path. We need to go north. Let's go and don't talk anymore.
Nastya was offended to obey the younger Mitrasha.
— Kra! - shouted at this time the crow in the nest.
And her male with small steps ran closer to Kosach for half a bridge.
The second sharp blue arrow crossed the sun, and a gray cloud began to approach from above. The Golden Hen gathered her strength and tried to persuade her friend.
“Look,” she said, “how dense my path is, all people walk here. Are we smarter than everyone?
“Let all the people go,” the stubborn Man in the pouch answered decisively. - We must follow the arrow, as our father taught us, to the north, to the Palestinian.
“Father told us fairy tales, he joked with us,” said Nastya, “and, probably, there is no Palestinian at all in the north. It would be very stupid for us to follow the arrow - just not to the Palestinian, but to the very Blind Elan we will please.
“Well, all right,” Mitrasha turned sharply, “I won’t argue with you anymore: you go along your path, where all the women go for cranberries, but I’ll go on my own, along my path, to the north.
And he actually went there without thinking about the cranberry basket or the food.
About two hundred years ago, the wind-sower brought two seeds to the Fornication swamp: a pine seed and a spruce seed. Both seeds fell into one hole near a large flat stone. Since then, for perhaps two hundred years, these spruce and pine have been growing together. Their roots have been intertwined since childhood, their trunks stretched up close to the light, trying to overtake each other. Trees of different species fought among themselves with roots for food, with branches for air and light. Rising higher, thickening their trunks, they dug dry branches into living trunks and in places pierced each other through and through. An evil wind, having arranged such an unhappy life for the trees, sometimes flew here to shake them. And then the trees groaned and howled at the whole Fornication swamp like living creatures, that the fox, curled up on a moss tussock, lifted its sharp muzzle up. This groan and howl of pine and spruce was so close to living beings that a feral dog in the Fornication swamp, hearing it, howled from longing for a person, and a wolf howled from inescapable malice towards him.
The children came here, to the Lying Stone, at the very time when the first rays of the sun, flying over the low, gnarled swamp fir-trees and birch trees, illuminated the Ringing Borin and the mighty trunks of the pine forest became like lit candles of the great temple of nature. From there, here, to this flat stone, where the children sat down to rest, faintly flew the singing of birds, dedicated to the rising of the great sun.
It was quite quiet in nature, and the children, who were cold, were so quiet that the black grouse Kosach paid no attention to them. He sat down at the very top, where the boughs of pine and boughs of spruce formed like a bridge between two trees. Having settled down on this bridge, which was rather wide for him, closer to the spruce, Kosach seemed to begin to bloom in the rays of the rising sun. On his head, the comb caught fire like a fiery flower. His chest, blue in the depths of black, began to pour from blue to green. And his rainbow-colored, lyre-spread tail became especially beautiful.
Seeing the sun over the miserable swamp fir-trees, he suddenly jumped up on his high bridge, showed his white, purest linen of undertail, underwings and shouted:
- Chuf, shi!
In grouse, “chuf” most likely meant the sun, and “shi” probably had our “hello”.
In response to this first chirping of Kosach-tokovik, the same chirping with flapping wings was heard far across the swamp, and soon dozens of large birds began to fly in and land near the Lying Stone from all sides, like two drops of water similar to Kosach.
With bated breath, the children sat on the cold stone, waiting for the rays of the sun to come to them and warm them at least a little. And now the first ray, gliding over the tops of the nearest, very small Christmas trees, finally played on the children's cheeks. Then the upper Kosach, greeting the sun, stopped jumping up and down. He squatted low on the bridge at the top of the tree, stretched his long neck along the bough, and began a long, brook-like song. In response to him, somewhere nearby, dozens of the same birds sitting on the ground, too - every rooster - stretched out their necks and began to sing the same song. And then, as if already quite a large stream, muttering, ran over invisible pebbles.
How many times have we, the hunters, after waiting for the dark morning, at the chilly dawn listened with trepidation to this singing, trying in our own way to understand what the roosters are singing about. And when we repeated their mumbling in our own way, we got:
cool feathers,
Ur-gur-gu,
Cool feathers
Obor-woo, I will break off.
So the black grouse muttered in unison, intending to fight at the same time. And while they were muttering like that, a small event happened in the depths of the dense spruce crown. There a crow sat on a nest and hid there all the time from Kosach, who was swimming almost near the nest itself. The crow would very much like to drive Kosach away, but she was afraid to leave the nest and cool the eggs in the morning frost.
That is why the author chose such a sonorous, harmonious title for his work. Spruce, pine, and many other useful plants live in the Prishvinskaya "Pantry of the Sun". Perhaps none of the Russian writers had such a beautiful description of nature. About these related coniferous trees, he says: “The wind-sower brought two seeds ... Both seeds fell into one hole ... Since then ... spruce and pine grow together ...” In continuation of the description, we learn that the trees roots fight among themselves for food, and leaves and branches for air. And when an evil wind blows, then, swaying from side to side, they howl at the whole swamp.
So extraordinary, and at the same time, artistically sees the writer of forest nature.Reading his lines, involuntarily imbued with love and sympathy for nature. Natural phenomena become peculiar characters of the work, which can both help people and prevent them from living. The central event is the trip of rural orphans Nastya and Mitrasha to the Blind Elan, where the boy gets stuck in a swamp and cannot get out for a long time. The idea to go to the forest came to them unexpectedly. They just wanted to find a clearing with cranberries, which their late father talked about a lot. Along the way, the children quarreled and missed each other.
Nastya took a longer but more reliable path, while Mitrasha took a shortcut and went along an unbeaten path. As a result, he himself did not notice how he ended up in the middle of a swamp, which pulled him down to the waist. Nature almost punished children for disobedience. Nastya was a couple of years older than her brother and should not have left him alone, and Mitrasha had to obey her older sister. The author wanted to show that in this way nature wanted to teach the guys a lesson. However, she came to their aid. The forester's dog sensed trouble in the forest by the plaintive cry of "trees woven forever" and came to the children's aid. It was she who pulled Mitrasha out of the quagmire.
Like any fairy tale, "The Pantry of the Sun" ended happily. The boy even managed to shoot the most terrible wolf in the area, for which he was respected in the village. But this trip became a lesson for them for a long time. Nastya reproached herself for inattention, and Mitrasha for disobedience. And the dog Grass has since become a good friend to them.
