[简答题]Protected by sweaters and a leather Jacket against the biting blasts of the earth wind, I walk along the hillside this afternoon. Snow lies drifted among the wild cherries. Where the wind has swept bare the ground, the soil is frozen and rocklike. On this day of bleak cold, the earth seems dead. Yet every field and hillside, like a child, has the seeds and powers of growth hidden within it. From cocoon to bur, on a winter’s day, there is everywhere life, dormant but waiting. Within the earth there are roots and seeds; on the ’bare twigs ,there are winter buds; buried in soil and mud beneath ice-locked water are the turtles and frogs and dragonfly nymphs; hidden in decaying logs and under snow covered debris are the fertilized queens of the wasps and blumblebees. Everywhere, on all sides of us, as far as winter reigns, life is suspended temporarily. But it has not succumbed. It is merely dormant for the time being, merely waiting for the magic touch of spring. All the blooms of anot