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      Glories of the Storm

      放大字體  縮小字體 發(fā)布日期:2007-08-20
      核心提示: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 becomes heavy. It hangs over the trees, presses

      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 becomes 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 plied on cloud to form a ridge of mammoth white towers, rearing against blue sky.

      Their piercing whiteness is of brief duration. Soon the marshmallow 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 come.

      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 furnishings. Thunder begins to grumble in the distance.

      The first drops of rain are huge. They split into the dust and imprint the windows with 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 plunk faster and faster until the sound Is a roll of drums and the individual drops become an army marching over fields and rooftops. Now the first bolt of tightening 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 becomes 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 ran 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 new-made waterfall! Now hailstones thump 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 cool and welcome 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 saturated soil. The creek in the gully runs bank-full 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.

      提示:

      在這篇散文中,作者僅在第一段就使用了creeps(蠕動(dòng)),chirp(調(diào)嫩),rustle(沙沙作響)和sing(歌唱)四個(gè)擬聲詞,從而強(qiáng)化了這段"靜"的描寫。在第二段中,作者使用了white(白色的)和blue(蘭色的)兩個(gè)擬色詞,把籃天中白云的活動(dòng)帶到讀者的眼前。在第三段中,作者用flatten(使平展),a gust of wind whips(勁風(fēng)卷起)以及 chill warning(冷嗖嗖的)之類的詞把即將來(lái)臨的風(fēng)暴以及作者的感覺帶給讀者,從而引出下一段對(duì)風(fēng)暴開始的描寫。

      第四段一開始,作者就用了ban(關(guān)門時(shí)發(fā)出的"砰"的聲響)和billow(窗簾卷動(dòng)時(shí)發(fā)出的"撲撲"的聲音)兩個(gè)擬聲詞把整段帶活,然后又用gumble(雷聲)開始風(fēng)暴來(lái)臨的描寫。緊接著,又用split(雨點(diǎn)打在地上發(fā)出的響聲),plink(雨點(diǎn)打在金屬物上發(fā)出的響聲),plunk(雨點(diǎn)打在屋頂上發(fā)出的聲音)和shudder(樹葉在雨水中發(fā)出的聲音)這四個(gè)十分形象的擬聲同把雨景描繪得淋漓盡致,仿佛使人親耳聽到了雨點(diǎn)發(fā)出的各種聲響。在第六段中,作者重復(fù)使用plink和plunk兩詞把對(duì)雨的描寫帶到了高潮。

      在第七段的一開始,作者轉(zhuǎn)而描寫雷和閃電,用crack一詞描繪清脆震耳的雷聲,并用rattle這個(gè)擬聲同形容窗子在暴風(fēng)中發(fā)出的格格響聲,接著再用scratching一同把狗被嚇得連滾帶爬的情景展現(xiàn)在讀者的眼前。在第八段中,作者使用了flung,batter,pounds這三個(gè)有力的擬聲詞把雨水的"量"感帶出來(lái),使人仿佛置身于瓢潑大雨水之中。描寫完雨水之后,又用thump,pounce這兩個(gè)擬聲詞開始描繪冰雹,把冰雹拍打在屋頂上的聲音以及冰雹落在地面上四處飛濺的場(chǎng)景描繪得活靈活現(xiàn)。除了上面提到的二十七個(gè)擬聲詞,文中還包含了許多其它的擬聲、擬形、擬物、擬景的詞語(yǔ),從而使這篇散文充滿了生機(jī)和活力。

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      關(guān)鍵詞: the of and to is The 作者 發(fā)出 on my in 描寫 It into
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