There is always scenery for me to write 1. It is late autumn again. The sunshine is not very hot, spectacular and warm. Ginkgo biloba leaves covered the avenue, inadvertently thinking of the old couple.
It is also late autumn. I travel and live in a narrow and lovely alley. Ginkgo trees are planted on both sides of the alley, which looks golden. When the wind blows, ginkgo leaves float around like butterflies; Step on it and it squeaks like a child.
Good evening. After dinner. There is always an old couple out for a walk. The old woman is in a wheelchair and the old man is pushing it. The old man's pace is slow, but there is a handsome and perseverance in his bones. The old woman, with gray temples, is in a wheelchair. Her face is full of traces of years, and her smiling face reflects a pair of full and bright eyes, as warm as the sun.
There are acquaintances on both sides of the road, greeting each other. This one asks, "Have you eaten?" They smiled and nodded; The one said, "You have a good relationship!" They said with emotion, "Yes, 40 years."
The old woman held the old man's hand tightly and said, "It's been 40 years." The old man looked at her and nodded. His eyes are 40 years of knowing each other and cherishing each other.
The old man continued to push the old woman, and the wind blew easily, which was a little quiet.
She was paralyzed for 40 years; He kept it for 40 years. I feel a little warmth in my heart, mixed with sunshine, flowing in my heart, which is touching.
Love is a letter from Fu Lei to his son. A painting, writing the father's thoughts about his son; Between the lines, there is a mountain of fatherly love.
Love is also the 40 years that the old man and the old woman have experienced together, knowing each other and then staying together. So plain, but true, are two holy initial intentions.
My heart is crystal clear, which has nothing to do with mountains and rivers and romance. Under the ginkgo tree, the old man and the old woman are watching the scenery; In my eyes, aren't they just a landscape that moves me?
There is always scenery for me to write 2. You are the most beautiful scenery in my eyes.
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Follow me with one eye. Keep your eyes on me A pair of hands waved to me. The surrounding scenery is receding and gradually blurring.
I woke up from my sleep and heard the jingle of the kitchen. My mother is cooking breakfast. "Coming", my mother is carrying a bowl of delicious noodles and some cucumbers, as if she had just come from the fog. I eat, she looks. I want her to eat. Somehow a tacit understanding was reached. I looked at her yellow and black face and stared at her muddy eyes, and my thoughts went back to last night.
I'm going to study at night, and she says I can't leave because of work. I saw her riding this way when I was waiting for the bus on the back platform. The cold air in early winter turned her face purple with cold and stretched out her cracked hand. "You're not" I looked her up and down. "No, go ahead." Then help me, I'm getting on the bus. She was dressed very thinly, and I vaguely felt that he was shaking.
At the school gate, it was getting dark. I hurried to school. Listen carefully. I can't hear her voice. I looked back casually and saw her still standing and waving. Eyes are full of feelings that can't be melted. After a while, she turned and rode away. I chased the door like crazy, and I saw it again. Flying hair, blown by the wind, thin clothes. A shabby little battery car took her across the street. For some reason, my eyes are red.
Mom, you always said to make me strong, and you are the best example. You always laugh, but your eyes are wet. You have wrinkles and white hair. You always said you were happy to have me, and I said me too. I am not sensible, I am incompetent, and I can't make you proud of me. Mom, you gave me too much and treated me so well that I gradually forgot myself. You should also think of yourself!
"Eat quickly, it's cold." My mother's voice pulled me back. I bowed my head to eat noodles, and my face was hot. It's too salty. The fog on the noodles covered my eyes. I looked up and vaguely saw the figure standing at the school gate that night.
There is always scenery for me to write 3. There are many different things in the world, but they constitute a landscape. A leaf, a bunch of flowers, a person, a thing ... in my heart, there is a scenery that I will never forget.
Recently, it was reported in the news that after an old man got on the bus, no one gave him his seat, and the driver suddenly braked, causing the old man to fall to the ground and seriously died. For a time, there was an uproar in the society. From these comments, we find that most people are condemning the incident. What about real life?
One day, an old man got on the bus with her little granddaughter, and a dramatic scene appeared. No one gave up his seat on the bus. Passengers either bow their heads to play with their mobile phones or pretend to sleep, turning a blind eye to the appearance of the elderly. In desperation, the old man can only hold the handrail tightly to avoid falling. Looking at the rickety figure of the old man, I thought: With the rapid development of the times, has the human heart become as cold as a machine? The thin figure of the old man swayed as the driver refueled or braked. I wonder if the people in this car will be shocked. The driver's refueling and braking hit people's hearts again and again, while the passengers in the car did not move. The car continued to drive and the figure of the old man was still shaking. Suddenly, a little girl got up from her seat, struggled through the crowd, walked over to the old man and helped him to his seat. This move is like a ray of sunshine penetrating dark clouds, shining into people's hearts and warming them. The granddaughter in the old man's arms was made to laugh by the little girl. Does this laughter stir the indifferent heart?
Facts have proved that people's hearts are not all indifferent, but also burning like fire. It is these raging fires that are melting those cold hearts, just like warm sunshine shining through dark clouds again and again.
This is the most unforgettable scenery in my heart!
There is always a scenery that makes me write 4. The cloud in my hometown is a sentimental cloud that makes me daydream; The people in my hometown are affectionate people, which makes me warm and moved; The scenery in my hometown is meaningful, which makes me linger.
The east is a vast expanse of whiteness, and bundles of morning light gently float on the blue-gray tiles. A breeze lingers gently among the lush trees; Waves of greetings. The warm echo along the winding mountain road:
"Where to?" "going to climb the mountain!"
"What about the child?" "Catch bugs!"
Laughing and laughing all the way, the dew hid in the green leaf sheath in a panic, and Yunying ran wildly in the bamboo forest. The exultation in our hearts is released in this clear world, rippling with the wind.
In the afternoon, the sun smiles in the sky. I like playing and catching fish in the river with my familiar partners best. When we came to the river, we carefully rolled up our trouser legs, tried them carefully with our toes, and then gently dipped our feet into the water. The weather is really cold! Then we quietly put our little hands into the water, and several pairs of bright eyes turned around, always paying attention to the movement in the water. Seize the opportunity, your hands will lift the water and fish out of the water like lightning. If we can't catch the fish, we won't get lost, and we'll have a water fight. The waves aroused by high spirits are as dazzling as small white sails.
The moon climbs quietly to the treetops, and my yard is often the busiest. Grandma sat on the Mazar in the yard, chatting with her neighbors and rubbing corn kernels. Petite corn kernels, like me, can't stand grandma's tickling and giggling. Grandpa is also sitting in the yard, playing chess with his friends. I still remember the crisp greetings between the chess pieces, so sweet and comfortable. Crickets and crickets are not to be outdone. Their songs resounded through bamboo forests, corners and vegetable fields, but they were just right and would never disturb the villagers' nightlife.
The night in my hometown, quiet and harmonious, is a melodious nocturne, playing in the theater of memory.
Hometown, hometown, haunting hometown, there are always scenery I miss.
There is always a landscape for me to write 5. Maple leaves are patches, and the wind continues. This old friend may still be very good. ...
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The night is deep, the rain is falling outside the window, the leaves are swaying, and my thoughts in the house are gradually accumulating, recalling the past.
"come on Come on! I have found something new! " She yelled at me. I waved and jumped off the wall, covered in dust and with flying sleeves. "What's the matter with you? It's so dirty. " She patted me on the shoulder with both hands. I ha ha a smile, hurriedly change the subject, we stare big eyes, a closer look, turned out to be an ant is moving a little bread crumbs in a hurry to drill into the hole. Unfortunately, we caught it and couldn't get up quickly. I picked it up carefully and put it on the stone table, but it was howling and running. No choice but to cover it with two bricks. Ants have to sit and observe the sky. She picked up a magnifying glass and began her observation experiment. I stood aside and started dubbing my screams. Can you keep your voice down? The little ant is scared by you. She turned her head and said, I scratched my head and held my hand helplessly. I saw it! "She suddenly smiled excitedly at me." The smile was so bright that two tiger teeth were shyly exposed, and a maple leaf on the tree slowly flew to the foot. ...
This is an elegant and lively girl. Her shoulders are often covered with slightly long and thick black hair, and the blue plaid bow on her head with delicate eyes is even more dazzling. I vaguely remember that when she first signed up, she turned and smiled at me. From then on, we became best friends.
That time, I made a mistake in my homework, and the boys next to me kept laughing at me. I was wronged and stopped talking back, but she was always angry. She scolded the boy without hesitation and immediately came to comfort me. She still sipped her mouth and smiled at me. After several years, we are still inseparable. There are always two girls running on the tree-lined path. After junior high school, her parents want to take her to other counties to study. Since then, we have little contact, only one Ye Feng, which is a gentle continuation.
Time goes by and life is like a dream. Isn't that smile the most beautiful scenery? Old friends are still good!
There is always scenery for me to write 6. When the sunset erased the last ray of light, the paper plane of my childhood finally flew back to me.
I like the night, it is always so beautiful and moving. You can always hear the sounds of nature at night, and crickets are humming a tune in the grass, which adds a little fun to the silence of summer nights. However, occasionally a child stands on the grass and tries to catch the cricket. The moon always rises slowly inadvertently. "The foot of my bed is so bright, can it have frosted?" . When I was young, my father would teach us to recite ancient poems every night. The stars are sleepy, blink, and the night is bustling.
The night is also lonely. After the lively summer, the autumn night is even colder. Whenever the lights are turned off, there will always be bursts of frogs, Taoxiang's childhood and Taoxiang's story in the fields, dotted with colorful life trajectories. A person will go further and further. Whenever the night comes quietly, their hearts will be so close. Even when they reach the ends of the earth, they will never forget the fragrant rice of their childhood. Maybe one day, when you stand in a radiant place, will you remember that lonely night as a tortuous and lonely life?
Whenever winter nights come, it is really quiet here. Occasionally, heavy snow falls from the sky, and everything is silent. But one day, every household, full of excitement, broke the original silence and seemed to freeze time in the dazzling fireworks. That winter night was the end of the year. The heavy snow has stopped and the New Year is coming. That night, after all, there was no silence.
When a ray of sunshine in the morning shines on the earth, the night quietly leaves.
The scenery reminds me of the past, of every night, of every lively, silent and unforgettable night.
Yes, only when you get used to a person's night will you get used to every night.
There is always a scenery that haunts me, mixed with slight morning light and faint grass fragrance, filled with and passing away. At the age of thirteen, the sky was clear and transparent, and nothing was left by the wind, but I still wrote down the scenery on my growing road with my stubborn hands. I grew up at the age of thirteen, tears and stories.
Miwu childhood
"The dark sky hangs low, bright stars follow, insects fly, insects fly, who are you missing?"
That long memory has long been forgotten inadvertently, but I still remember the growing scenery, with cicadas singing in summer, secluded winding paths, stars all over the sky, fireflies shining in the grass, emitting faint light, so quiet and beautiful. On a whim, I called friends and friends to look for elves in the jungle with a small net. I don't know who exclaimed, and the grass was shocked by starlight. In an instant, the moonlight is bright and people are scattered. I ran home and grandma was lying in a rocking chair, looking at me lovingly. I lay on grandma's lap and looked at the lotus beauty by the pond. I patted grandma coquetry. My grandmother had no choice but to chuckle. Then I sang the song "Dark sky droops, bright stars follow, insects fly, insects fly, who are you missing", which lit up my whole childhood.
Shuguang juvenile
We stood on the playground under the blue sky together, wearing black and white school uniforms and swinging on ancient swings. The swing is engraved with the sadness behind the radiant seniors and sisters. When we saw it, we engraved our vision and expectation for the future. I casually wrote a "I really want to grow up" oath. At that time, we listened to the song "You fly to the other side of the city, you fly far away". I made a wish in the "secret base" and agreed to chase spring flowers in the distance. Teenagers at that time were so naive and serious.
Many years later, I will never forget my grandmother's singing, the vows I made that day, and all the scenery of this city.
There is always scenery, which makes me grow.