Autumn, perhaps, is sad, let a person's heart have some sour; perhaps it is bleak, give a kind of luxuriant no longer feel. However, the fall is also fiery red, a fiery sentiment.
The north of the fall came a little earlier, she came with sadness. North of the fall is so powerless, walking on the campus path, the yellowing of the autumn leaves, as if the poor child, by the merciless wind will leave the big tree mother who raised her, how can not let a person's heart break. It was as if the mother tree wanted to lower her head to pick up the child, but it was impossible, the leaves had to return to their roots. What a sad picture, and how great. The yellowed leaves, one by one, drifted into my heart.
The wind is chilly, the rain is sporadic, and the fall of the northern country is bleak. I remember the early fall, at home in front of the window looking at that full of green. Now, the summer lushness has become lifeless, the vitality of the green also faded, into a confusing yellowish, ah, bleak autumn yellow! On the small trees by the roadside, the bare branches sway in the wind, as if unable to withstand the torture of the wind. The branches of the trees swayed by the roadside, and the little trees stood sentinel in a cowering manner. The withered grass was covered with drops of dew, like the tears of sadness of the grass, she was reluctant to lose the vitality and vigor of summer. The road can not see the scattered men and women and children, the sky birds are nowhere to be found, perhaps to find the warmth of the sun in the south to go.
However, we look again, the fall is fiery red, red warm baked, red warm and romantic. We went up to the mountain yesterday to enjoy the autumn scenery. You see, that mountain of a piece of quercus, that piece of red leaves dancing in the wind, the mountains dyed red. You see, that small river in the mountains beside the trail to speed up the pace, the sound of the clattering water echoed in the mountains, the river is so clear and quiet, displaying the most beautiful posture, it seems that she is afraid of being slowly frozen.
That a red red quercus, mountain red and so on a variety of trees in the beckoning you, the river in the lead you run, pavilion birch for you to dance, that the autumn chrysanthemum for you to bloom a surprise flower, even the yellow weeds are also clustered at your feet.
Ah, the fall of the mountains and the city is not the same ah, sadness and bleakness swept away. That one is *** full of images, and now and then disappeared inside the withered yellow, that a piece of floating red leaves want to look at another warm season. They let us through the winter, to meet the mountain stream birds that burst of crisp chirping, to meet the green vitality of the trees, to meet the spring Dingdong, to meet the inner sunshine ......
2. The beginning of the composition of the environmental description1. Sitting in front of the window, the bright moon is still the same. Moonlight spilling out of the window sliding down, such as silk, such as silk ...... I do not know who pushed this round of full moon into the sky, I looked at the full moon like a mirror, looking at the silent dark night, looking incredibly despondent.
To the moon to tell my story, to tell my troubles. In the last days of junior high school, the test scores again and again hit my heart, in the non-stop to me to ring the alarm bell. The moon hangs high in the branches, the moonlight bleakly swept to the earth, adding to my sadness.
(In the opening of the above two paragraphs, the first one is about the bright moon, which aims to render a mournful atmosphere for the unfolding of the story.)
2. The remaining sun is like blood, reflecting the red early summer beach. Looking at the waves, vast; smell the sea breeze, salty; listening to the waves, clattering.
The waves are like a song, every sentence is ***, every song is exciting. The waves are coming up, rushing up the beach, slapping the reef, every note is so moving, so majestic, as if the symphony of fate. (From the 2006 Xiamen midterm essay "Song of the Wave")
3. After walking down the mossy stone path, crossing a crooked fence, pushing open the creaking board door, there is a window set in the old brick wall. The windowpaper has long since disappeared, leaving only the horizontal and vertical window panes covered with long and short red silk ropes. The red silk rope swayed helplessly in the wind, like who was complaining, but also like a faint sorrow that could not be blown away.......
(Characteristics: superimposed words, simile, prose, gives the circumstances of the story to be narrated, and laying suspense, attracting readers. )
4. Purple clouds filled the entire sky, in which there is a round of blood like the sunset, so warm picture shows "the most beautiful but the sunset red" warmth and ease of feeling, warm people intoxicated, warm people fascinated. (From the Hubei Jingzhou midterm perfect essay "bring the beauty of dawn to the lost me")
(write the scene of the setting sun, mainly for the following to write their own feelings of life to lay the foundation for the trigger point of a mood)
5. The evening wind blew through the last wave of ripples on the river surface, the setting sun put up its last flash of sunshine, the autumn frost to send off the last returning geese. We stood silently, our eyes wandering on the door of memory. When so much has withered away, we can at least say to ourselves: "Don't be sad, I've experienced that feeling, though only once." (from Anhui Province, the full score of the examination "once had")
(Through the "evening wind", "sunset", "autumn frost" description set out the mood of the characters at this time.)
6. Cold wind, rare stars, and broken clouds.
A round of water moon from the river rose phantasmagorically, longing to charm this ten thousand lights, I sit alone in front of the window, listening to the wooden window creak and tell the sadness of the heart, the heart is more uneasy.
"Now I really find happiness?" I kept pacing, thinking again of your tear-stained eyes. The case table that the sandwich, low pouring out my cast off your sadness and desolation, looking at that incomparably heavy paper, the heart has long been wet into a full of remorse, thoughts can not help but limp ......
8. This is the last flower of the summer, it is swaying in the evening wind, it seems to be about to fall, but tenaciously grasping the branch, it has with the It has been fighting the evening breeze for a whole summer. Finally, the first autumn wind blew, it struggled, fell, and the summer also accompanied the last petal fall away.
9. Faint clouds drifting, faint wind blowing, faint lake flow, everything is faint, so serene, now, the grass is not, and her faint smile still ...... makes me warm and unforgettable.
10. The end of spring, the alternation of seasons, everything seems to be very afraid of the hot summer, and even the branches of the spring red bloomed in full bloom are afraid to put into the mother earth's embrace. The original red ring green thin branches, now only a few scattered stars, while the earth is paved with a colorful carpet. Under the warm sun, only the fallen flower branches stand alone, waiting for the next spring.
3. On the description of the environment to set the mood of the beginning of the essayTechnique 6: Description of the environment, set the background Outside the classroom, the whistling north wind with the dense raindrops on the wall, "cha-ching, cha-ching" sound. Inside the classroom, an all-around competition test was carried out to the white-hot stage. (From the 2002 Hubei Xiantao full scores in the examination "build a wall in the heart") Purple-red going to be the sun filled with the entire sky, which there is a round of blood like the setting sun, so the warmth of the picture shows that "the most beautiful but the setting sun is red" sense of warmth and composure, warm people intoxicated, warm and fascinated people. (From the 2002 Hubei Jingzhou Intermediate School Examination full marks essay "Bring the beauty of dawn to the lost me") The evening wind blew through the most ripples on the river, the setting sun put away its last afterglow, the autumn frost to send off the last returning geese. We stood in silence, our eyes wandering over the door of memory. When so much has passed, when so much has faded, we can at least say to ourselves: "Don't be sad, I have experienced that feeling, though only once." (from the 2003 Anhui midterm full score essay "once had").
4. touched essay environment description of the beginningA pool of spiritual water, there will be a note is warm. When it drips into your heart, moisturizing your heart that may have long been dry, your heart will be slightly trembling, I call it "touched".
That day, I was blessed with this stream of water, and let it drip into my heart and cleanse my soul again.
Perhaps not surprisingly. In the morning, I had a big fight with my mother and rushed out of the house with a gray cloud over my head. I wandered aimlessly through the streets, bored out of my mind. I hadn't eaten breakfast yet, but I wasn't hungry at all. I bought a bottle of Yogurt and slowly sucked on it.
I was fighting back and remembering the scene. My mom told me to put on more clothes because it was getting cloudy. I didn't want to. She nagged me some more, and I slammed the door in anger.
As I was walking towards the door, a ragged, unkempt, middle-aged woman blocked my way. She wore a big red coat that was already tattered, a pair of blue shoes that were broken a few winters, and toenails that were exposed on the outside. Her throat issued a very strange sound, I barely understood that she was wanting my bottle of undrinkable "yogurt". I gave it to her in amazement, and she looked at me with a very grateful look and took it with a big dirty hand, feeling around with her other hand. Finally, she found a crumpled fifty cents in a small pocket, she smiled and handed it to me. I said, "No, I don't need it." She thought for a while, hand chess before, towards a small stall store to buy half a bowl of rice and a doughnut. As she walked toward a corner, I realized that there was a little boy, slightly more neatly dressed than the woman, about five or six years old. The woman picked up the "yogurt" and gave it to him. He took a small sip and pushed it back to the woman. I finally realized that they were a mother and daughter. The mother handed her son another doughnut with half a bottle of yogurt, and herself a small bowl of rice. The boy thought for a moment, left the half bottle of yogurt, split the doughnut in two, and handed it back to his mother. ......
I was shocked! I couldn't hold back the flood of tears. I flew home, head money to open the door, surprised and anxious mother's arms, let the tears, silent flow ...... I am glad that I made use of the fresh water, let her in making my nearly numb heart, again dance lightly, but also let me re-know the world --- touching and love.
In life, there are always some beautiful things will quietly appear, to embellish your life, that is - moving!
Touched, is an ineffable sentiment, it can only rely on our heart to taste.
Often, I was touched by some people or things, but sometimes I was touched by nothing.
When I saw the beloved flowers withered overnight, petals lying on the ground; when I saw the eagle is about to come out of the shell, struggling to the outside of the time; when the long-lost friends to extend the hand of friendship and I embraced the time ...... Although, these are so common. However, they have y touched my heart that is easy to move.
What touches me is sometimes a subtle and easily overlooked scene. Just like the flowers, this is an ordinary phenomenon. However, I have melted it into my heart, silently into an elegy for the passing of life. I think Lin Dai Xuyu's deepest heart also exists a kind of moving, otherwise, how can she perform the sad burial of flowers that tearful scene, and how to send out the "spring is over the old face, the flowers fall people die two do not know" feelings?
In fact, moving does not require too many words, does not require too many tears, does not require too much praise, and does not require you to try to change something. Moving is a delicate feelings, like a clear stream in our life on the road quietly flowing, only in the flow through the rugged mountains, only gently stirred up a crystal clear small flowers, and then continue to flow forward.
Touched, because I y love all the beautiful things in the world, only love them. And it is because I am touched that all good things are also y in love with me and with me alone.
Touched, close the distance between me and my friends, so that we will always maintain a true and sincere friendship between us, to maintain, deep out of the heart of the feelings of exchange and touch. We care for each other, encourage each other, and give each other.
Touched, can wash people's hearts impurities, it is like a multi-flavored bottle, let us taste the sweet and sour of life. A piece of depression
always makes people feel that something bad will happen. Sure enough, something
unpleasant happened.
2
, night, is so quiet; the moon, is so bright. The leaves of the trees were blown by the wind
"
rustle
"
"
sounding like a cello playing a piece of music. Sitting alone by the window
my heart turned over and I remembered something like this.
3
, downstairs, the osmanthus flowers bloomed, one by one like a shy little spirit
spirit, the aroma hooked my nose, but also evoked my memories. I'm not sure if you're going to be able to do that! I
can't forget that day.
Such a beginning to introduce things, set the mood of the characters.
It's late at night. I guess everyone else has already entered the dreamland. I am lying on the bed
I can not sleep, usually bright moon became dim, the wind blowing the woods,
in
"
sand, sand
"
sound. Are they as sad as I am?
I hope it's accepted, thank you