Nature Riddles

We are emeralds and diamonds,
Lost by the moon;
Found by the sun,
And picked up soon.

Deep, deep, do they go.
Spreading out as they go.
Never needing any air.
They are sometimes as fine as hair.

My first is second in line;
I send shivers up your spine;
not quite shining bright
I glitter in the light.

White bird, featherless, flying out of paradise. Flying over sea and land. Dying in my hand.

What can be grown without sun or soil and can either provide nourishment or deliver poison?

Barren location, infertile and dry;
my name means "to leave", it's not heard to see why.

Before I grow I'm small.
When I'm old I grow tall.
When I die I give a mighty fall.
What am I?

What type of bow can never be tied?

My step is slow, the snow's my breath
I give the ground, a grinding death
My marching makes an end of me
Slain by sun or drowned in sea.

The plant that is responsible for spreading a lot of gossip.

My rings are not worth much, but they do tell my age. What am I?

They say each one is totally unique.

If you slash it, It heals at once.

Green but not a lizard, white without being snow, and bearded without being a man.

Walk on the living, they don't even mumble. Walk on the dead, they mutter and grumble.

A section of the calendar dedicated to mother nature.

I am the red tongue of the earth, that buries cities.

Which is the oldest tree?

I come when the weather is at its prime,
Though, it might be wise to leave nothing on the street.
But, in the wintertime
My name is obsolete
What am I?

I do not eat food. But I do enjoy a light meal everyday. What am I?

It can't be seen or felt.
It can't be touched or smelt.
Behind stars and under hills.
All emptiness it fills.
What is it?

In wealth I abound; in water I stand;
As a fencer I'm valued all over the land;
At Venice I'm famous; by farmers I'm prized;
Respected by law, yet huntsmen despised;
Consternation and ruin ensue when I break;
And the beasts of the forest advantage won't take.

They come in many varieties: Red, Black, Dead, and Caspian to name a few.

Shifting, Shifting, Drifting deep.
Below me great and mighty cities sleep.
Swirling, Scurlling, All around.
I'm only where no water will be found.

I am always with my partner, and I make noise that you never see me create. What am I?

He stands beside the road. In a purple cap at tattered green cloak. Those who touch him, curse him.

My first a blessing sent to earth, of plants and flowers to aid the birth; my second surely was designed to hurl destruction on mankind; my whole a pledge from pardoning heaven, of wrath appeased and crimes forgiven.

What has a mouth but can't chew?

I have many ears, this may be true
But no matter how you shout,
I'll never hear you.
What am I?

Though my beauty is becoming I can hurt you just the same;
I come in many colors; I am what I am by any other name.

Looks like water, but it's heat.
Sits on sand, lays on concrete.
A play on the eyes, but it's all lies.
What is it?

I am seen in the water and in the sky. I am in the rainbow and a jay's feather. What am I?

My first two letters say my name. My last letter asks a question. What I embrace I destroy. What am I?

The wave, over the wave, a weird thing I saw, Through-wrought, and wonderfully ornate: A wonder on the wave-water became bone.

Material for making balls and men that only shows up at certain times of the year.

In birth I spring forth, in life I unfold. In death I wilt and die, but rebirth restores all.

At the end of my yard there is a vat,
four-and-twenty ladies dancing in that;
Some in green gowns, and some with blue hat;
He is a wise man who can tell me that.

You might see me in the sky, by a waterfall it’s lower. Some say that I was first seen after a flood by Noah. What am I?

What runs but never walks, has a mouth but never talks, has a head but never weeps, has a bed but never sleeps?

What do you call a fake Irish stone?

A hill full, a hole full; yet you cannot catch a bowl full. What is it?

In the forest, this blends in just right, but every December it is covered with lights. What is it?

I'm not a bird, but I can fly through the sky. I'm not a river, but I'm full of water. What am I?

I have a body of stone and a fiery heart, and sooner or later my head and I will part. What am I?

A tiny bead, like fragile glass, strung along a cord of grass.

I have split the one into five.
I am the circle that few will spy.
I am the path that breaks and gives.
I am the bow no man may bend.
What am I?

I am a small paradise surrounded by dryness and heat. What am I?

Ne'er the same,
In multitude you see me.
You love me, you hate me,
What am I?

What is the thing which, once poured out, cannot be gathered again?

If a lion had a Christmas music album, what would it be called?

What has a head yet it never weeps, has a bed but never sleeps, can run but can not walks, and has a bank but not a cent to its name?

I get chopped, decorated and on one end you’ll see wings on top. What am I?