“Ninth spruce. Lesson project based on the fairy tale by M.M.

Spruce and pine. About two hundred years ago, the wind-sower brought two seeds to the Bludovo swamp: a pine seed and a spruce seed. Both seeds fell into one hole near a large flat stone... Since then, perhaps two hundred years ago, these spruce and pine trees have been growing together. Their roots were intertwined from an early age, their trunks stretched upward side by side towards the light, trying to overtake each other... Trees of different species fought among themselves with their roots for food, with their branches for air and light.

Literature 4th grade

“Literary reading tasks” - A. I. Kuprin “Barbos and Zhulka.” Find out by the description. Find a pair. Name the work. Steep bank. Pieces of wool. Haircut Creak. Ears. M.M. Prishvin “Upstart”. Human. D. N. Mamin-Sibiryak “Adoptive”. 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 and read it. Mother, Lyubov Alekseevna. Cadet, 1880. Pages of life and creativity. Journals, manuscripts. Years of life: 1870 – 1938. In the office. During the years of wanderings. In a diver's suit. Vocabulary - lexical work. House-museum, Narovchat. Questions for the crossword. Explain the expression. Pages of the life and work of A.I. Kuprin.

“The story “Basket with fir cones”” - Fir cones. Basket with fir cones. Edvard Grieg's house. Terrain. Edvard Grieg. Paustovsky Konstantin Georgievich. Read the passage. Dagny. How should a person live? Students’ ability to summarize and analyze the text they read. Life is amazing and beautiful.

“School Library Book Series” - The Path. Little merman. About Vera and Anfisa. A tale of lost time. White Fang. Baby and Carlson. Deniska's stories. In the land of unlearned lessons. Uncle Fyodor's favorite girl. Chekhov's stories. Kingdom of Crooked Mirrors. Adventures of Tom Sawyer. The Wizard of Oz. Series of books “School Library”. Stories about nature. Book. Adventure Electronics. Young friends. Uncle Fyodor, dog and cat.

“Fables of Ivan Andreevich Krylov” - Fables in Russian literature. And together the three all harnessed themselves to it; They're going out of their way. Who is the founder of the fable? We got acquainted with the fable genre. Along the paths of fables. He reformed people through fun, sweeping away the dust of vices from them. Quiz. What fables are the words from? Krylov is a Russian fabulist. Stages of work. Moral of the story. A fable is a short, most often poetic story. What fables are these heroes from? We constantly encounter well-known Krylov characters.

“Essay on the painting “Golden Autumn”” - Perception of the painting. What surrounds you. Gold autumn. Essay based on the painting by I.I. Levitan. What day did the artist depict? A task to develop creative imagination. Vocabulary and spelling work. How the artist shows the approach of autumn. Writing an essay. Singer of Russian nature.

But first, Prishvin talks about what the Chernigov and Gethsemane monasteries, on the territory of which the philosophers were buried, had become by the end of the twenties. A correctional house named after the Socialist-Revolutionary terrorist Ivan Kalyaev was moved into the former cells of the monks.

“In the correctional house live everyone who can be captured by the net of a Moscow night raid: tramps, prostitutes, all sorts of business people, from the smallest who go to the ban to big business people who put raspberries in prison and even go on wet business.” .

These “spiritual cripples” occupied the territory of the Chernigov monastery, where workshops were located where they tried to re-educate criminals and turn them into workers. The Gefisman monastery was occupied by “physical cripples” living on small pensions.

The writer in his poem objectively notes that the efforts of the authorities to guide those who left it on the right path did not lead to success. Criminals terrorized the peaceful city, killing and raping local residents, and disabled people... Here is one of the sketches from “The Ninth Spruce”: “They say that most of the houses on the most beautiful street of Sergiev were built by monks for their mistresses. And last spring, on this very Krasyukovka street, two blind men from Kalyaevka - he with a bouquet of lilacs in his hand, she with a rose - lay down right on the street, drunk, and in the dirt, as if on a soft bed, they surrendered to the feeling of so-called animal love.”

As for the monastery cemetery, it was turned into an amusement park, and therefore finding the graves of Russian thinkers was not an easy task for Prishvin.

“Most of the monuments were lying on their sides; Among them, with great difficulty, I found a monument to Konstantin Leontyev, and from there, following the instructions of the relatives of the late Rozanov who were with me, counting off a few meters, I established the location of another grave that had completely disappeared from the face of the earth.”

And then Mikhail Prishvin gives an indicative detail. When the old woman accompanying the writer laid a red egg on the grave of one of the philosophers, the inhabitants of Kolyaevka who surrounded them “were about to jump and take possession of it.” And before that, they watched with mockery and amazement as the old woman crossed herself.

By the way, only thanks to Prishvin, who not only in “The Ninth Spruce”, but also in his “Diaries” described in detail his trip to the former monasteries, it was possible to find the graves of Rozanov and Leontyev already at the end of Soviet power, in 1990. At the same time, the burial places were finally restored after ten years of devastation.

SOS I just can’t find an excerpt from the story Pantry of the Sun by Prishvina Sosna and the tree is not difficult to write the excerpt itself and received the best answer

Answer from Vlad[guru]

Answer from Vadim Znak[newbie]
About two hundred years ago, the sowing wind brought two seeds to the Bludovo swamp: a pine seed and a spruce seed. Both seeds fell into one hole near a large flat stone... Since then, perhaps two hundred years ago, these spruce and pine trees have been growing together. Their roots were intertwined from an early age, their trunks stretched upward side by side towards the light, trying to overtake each other. Trees of different species fought terribly among themselves with their roots for food, and with their branches for air and light. Rising higher and higher, thickening their trunks, they dug dry branches into living trunks and in some places pierced each other through and through. The evil wind, having given the trees such a miserable life, sometimes flew here to shake them. And then the trees moaned and howled throughout the Bludovo swamp, like living beings. It was so similar to the moaning and howling of living creatures that the fox, curled up into a ball on a moss hummock, raised its sharp muzzle upward. This groan and howl of pine and spruce was so close to living beings that the wild dog in the Bludov swamp, hearing it, howled with longing for the man, and the wolf howled with inescapable anger towards him.

Answer from Krytoy krytovich[newbie]
I liked it guys from me thanks who wrote it helped me

Answer from Ivan Nasuletsky[newbie]
thank you very much!

Answer from Nikita Skvortsov[newbie]
About two hundred years ago, the sowing wind brought two seeds to the Bludovo swamp: a pine seed and a spruce seed. Both seeds fell into one hole near a large flat stone... Since then, perhaps two hundred years ago, these spruce and pine trees have been growing together. Their roots were intertwined from an early age, their trunks stretched upward side by side towards the light, trying to overtake each other. Trees of different species fought terribly among themselves with their roots for food, and with their branches for air and light. Rising higher and higher, thickening their trunks, they dug dry branches into living trunks and in some places pierced each other through and through. The evil wind, having given the trees such a miserable life, sometimes flew here to shake them. And then the trees moaned and howled throughout the Bludovo swamp, like living beings. It was so similar to the moaning and howling of living creatures that the fox, curled up into a ball on a moss hummock, raised its sharp muzzle upward. This groan and howl of pine and spruce was so close to living beings that the wild dog in the Bludov swamp, hearing it, howled with longing for the man, and the wolf howled with inescapable anger towards him.

Answer from Vera Tkacheva[newbie]
About two hundred years ago, the sowing wind brought two seeds to the Bludovo swamp: a pine seed and a spruce seed. Both seeds fell into one hole near a large flat stone... Since then, perhaps two hundred years ago, these spruce and pine trees have been growing together. Their roots were intertwined from an early age, their trunks stretched upward side by side towards the light, trying to overtake each other. Trees of different species fought terribly among themselves with their roots for food, and with their branches for air and light. Rising higher and higher, thickening their trunks, they dug dry branches into living trunks and in some places pierced each other through and through. The evil wind, having given the trees such a miserable life, sometimes flew here to shake them. And then the trees moaned and howled throughout the Bludovo swamp, like living beings. It was so similar to the moaning and howling of living creatures that the fox, curled up into a ball on a moss hummock, raised its sharp muzzle upward. This groan and howl of pine and spruce was so close to living beings that the wild dog in the Bludov swamp, hearing it, howled with longing for the man, and the wolf howled with inescapable anger towards him.

IV
About two hundred years ago, the sowing wind brought two seeds to the Bludovo swamp: a pine seed and a spruce seed. Both seeds fell into one hole near a large flat stone... Since then, perhaps two hundred years ago, these spruce and pine trees have been growing together. Their roots were intertwined from an early age, their trunks stretched upward side by side towards the light, trying to overtake each other... Trees of different species fought among themselves with their roots for food, with their branches for air and light. Rising higher and higher, thickening their trunks, they dug dry branches into living trunks and in some places pierced each other through and through. The evil wind, having given the trees such a miserable life, sometimes flew here to shake them. And then the trees moaned and howled so loudly throughout the Bludovo swamp, like living beings, that the fox, curled up in a ball on a moss hummock, raised its sharp muzzle upward. This groan and howl of pine and spruce was so close to living beings that the wild dog in the Bludov swamp, hearing it, howled with longing for the man, and the wolf howled with inescapable anger 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 birches, illuminated the Sounding Borina and the mighty trunks of the pine forest became like the lit candles of a great temple of nature. From there, here, to this flat stone, where the children sat down to rest, the singing of birds, dedicated to the rising of the great sun, faintly floated across.

It was completely quiet in nature, and the children, frozen, were so quiet that the black grouse did not pay any attention to them. He sat down at the very top, where pine and spruce branches formed like a bridge between two trees. Having settled down on this bridge, which was quite wide for him, closer to the spruce, the braid seemed to begin to bloom in the rays of the rising sun. The comb on his head lit up with a fiery flower. His chest, blue in the depths of black, began to shimmer from blue to green. And his iridescent, lyre-spread tail became especially beautiful.

Seeing the sun above the miserable swamp fir trees, he suddenly jumped up on his high bridge, showed his cleanest white linen of undertail and underwings and shouted:

In grouse, “chuf” most likely meant the sun, and “shi” probably was their “hello”.

In response to this first snort of the lekking slasher, the same snort with the flapping of wings was heard far throughout the swamp, and soon dozens of large birds, like two peas in a pod, began to fly here from all sides and land near the Lying Stone.

With bated breath, the children sat on a cold stone, waiting for the rays of the sun to come to them and warm them up at least a little. And then the first ray, gliding over the tops of the nearest, very small Christmas trees, finally began to play on the children’s cheeks. Then the top braid, greeting the sun, stopped jumping and chuffing. He sat down low on the bridge at the top of the tree, stretched his long neck along the branch and began a long song, similar to the babbling of a brook. In response to him, dozens of the same birds, also each a rooster, sitting somewhere nearby, sitting on the ground, stretched out their necks and began to sing the same song. And then, as if a rather large stream was already muttering, it ran over the invisible pebbles.

How many times have we, hunters, waited until the dark morning, listened in awe to this singing at the chilly dawn, trying in our own way to understand what the roosters were crowing about. And when we repeated their mutterings in our own way, what came out was:

Cool feathers

Ur-gur-gu,

Cool feathers

I'll cut it 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 was sitting on a nest and was hiding there all the time from the koscha, which was migrating almost right next to the nest. The crow would very much like to drive away the scythe, but she was afraid to leave the nest and let her eggs cool in the morning frost. The male raven guarding the nest was making his flight at that time and, probably encountering something suspicious, paused. The crow lay down in the nest, waiting for the male, and was quieter than water below the grass. And suddenly, seeing the male flying back, she shouted:

This meant to her:

Help out!

Kra! - the male answered in the direction of the current in the sense that it is still unknown who will tear off whose cool feathers.

The male, immediately understanding what was going on, went down and sat down on the same bridge, near the Christmas tree, right next to the nest where the Orca was mating, only closer to the pine tree, and began to wait.

At this time, Kosach, not paying any attention to the male crow, called out his words, known to all hunters:

Car-car-cupcake!

And this was the signal for a general fight of all the displaying roosters. Well, 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 the killer whale.

The hunters for sweet cranberries sat motionless, like statues, on a stone. The sun, so hot and clear, came out against them over the swamp fir trees. But at that time one cloud happened in the sky. It appeared like a cold blue arrow and crossed the rising sun in half. At the same time, suddenly the wind blew again, and then the pine tree pressed, and the spruce growled.

At this time, having rested on a stone and warmed up in the rays of the sun, Nastya and Mitrasha got up to continue their journey. But right at the stone, a rather wide swamp path diverged like a fork: one, good, dense path went to the right, the other, weak, went straight.

Having checked the direction of the trails with a compass, Mitrasha, pointing out a weak trail, said:

We need to take this route north.

This is not a trail! - Nastya answered.

Here's another! - Mitrasha got angry. - People were walking, that means a path. We need to go north. Let's go and don't talk anymore.

Nastya was offended to obey the younger Mitrasha.

Kra! - shouted the crow in the nest at that time.

And her male ran in small steps closer to the killer whale, halfway across the bridge.

The second steep blue arrow crossed the sun, and a gray gloom 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 the people are walking here.” Are we really smarter than everyone else?

“Let all people walk,” the stubborn “little guy in a bag” answered decisively. - We must follow the arrow, as our father taught us, to the north, to the Palestinians.

Father told us fairy tales, he joked with us,” said Nastya. “And there are probably no Palestinians in the north at all.” It would be very stupid for us to follow the arrow: we will end up not in Palestine, but in the very Blind Elan.

“Okay,” Mitrash turned sharply. “I won’t argue with you anymore: you go along your path, where all the women go to buy cranberries, but I’ll go on my own, along my path, to the north.”

And in fact he went there without thinking about the cranberry basket or the food.

Nastya should have reminded him of this, but she was so angry that, all red as red, she spat after him and followed the cranberries along the common path.

Kra! - the crow screamed.

And the male quickly ran across the bridge the rest of the way to the scythe and hit him with all his might. As if scalded, the moose rushed towards the flying black grouse, but the angry male caught up with him, pulled him out, threw a bunch of white and rainbow feathers through the air and chased him far away.

Then the gray darkness moved in tightly and covered the entire sun with its life-giving rays. The evil wind blew very sharply. The trees intertwined with roots, piercing each other with branches, growled, howled, and groaned throughout the Bludovo swamp.

About two hundred years ago, the sowing wind brought two seeds to the Bludovo swamp: a pine seed and a spruce seed. Both seeds fell into one hole near a large flat stone. Since then, perhaps two hundred years ago, these spruce and pine trees have been growing together. Their roots were intertwined from an early age, their trunks stretched upward side by side towards the light, trying to overtake each other. Trees of different species fought among themselves with their roots for food, and with their branches for air and light. Rising higher and higher, thickening their trunks, they dug dry branches into living trunks and in some places pierced each other through and through. The evil wind, having given the trees such a miserable life, sometimes flew here to shake them. And then the trees moaned and howled so loudly throughout the Bludovo swamp, like living beings, that the fox, curled up in a ball on a moss hummock, raised its sharp muzzle upward. This groan and howl of pine and spruce was so close to living beings that the wild dog in the Bludov swamp, hearing it, howled with longing for the man, and the wolf howled with inescapable anger 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 birches, illuminated the Sounding Borina and the mighty trunks of the pine forest became like the lit candles of a great temple of nature. From there, here, to this flat stone, where the children sat down to rest, the singing of birds, dedicated to the rising of the great sun, faintly floated across.

It was completely quiet in nature, and the children, frozen, were so quiet that the black grouse Kosach did not pay any attention to them. He sat down at the very top, where pine and spruce branches formed like a bridge between two trees. Having settled down on this bridge, quite wide for him, closer to the spruce, Kosach seemed to begin to bloom in the rays of the rising sun. The comb on his head lit up with a fiery flower. His chest, blue in the depths of black, began to shimmer from blue to green. And his iridescent, 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, clean linen of undertail and underwings and shouted:

- Chuf, shi!

In grouse, “chuf” most likely meant the sun, and “shi” probably was their “hello”.

In response to this first snort of the Current Kosach, the same snort with the flapping of wings was heard far throughout the swamp, and soon dozens of large birds, like two peas in a pod similar to Kosach, began to fly here from all sides and land near the Lying Stone.

With bated breath, the children sat on a cold stone, waiting for the rays of the sun to come to them and warm them up at least a little. And then the first ray, gliding over the tops of the nearest, very small Christmas trees, finally began to play on the children’s cheeks. Then the upper Kosach, greeting the sun, stopped jumping and chuffing. He sat down low on the bridge at the top of the tree, stretched his long neck along the branch and began a long song, similar to the babbling of a brook. In response to him, somewhere nearby, dozens of the same birds sitting on the ground, each one a rooster, stretched out their necks and began to sing the same song. And then, as if a rather large stream was already muttering, it ran over the invisible pebbles.

How many times have we, hunters, waited until the dark morning, listened in awe to this singing at the chilly dawn, trying in our own way to understand what the roosters were crowing about. And when we repeated their muttering in our own way, what came out was:

Cool feathers

Ur-gur-gu,

Cool feathers

I'll cut it 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 was sitting on a nest and was hiding there all the time from Kosach, who was mating almost right next to the nest. The crow would very much like to drive Kosach away, but she was afraid to leave the nest and let her eggs cool in the morning frost.