A Leaf's Story After sleeping all winter, I, a leaf, finally woke up, and the big tree mother kindly said, "Child, you can go out and play for a while."
I slowly poked my head out and saw the grass green and the flowers red. I jumped out at once.
I took a deep breath and felt a fresh scent all over my body, and I thrived day after day under the sun. Day after day, spring passed, and soon it was summer.
One day, there was a violent storm, I quickly told the mother of the big trees, the mother of the big trees with their own roots, the soil firmly grasp, and finally the big trees work together, the soil and water is not lost. People planted trees in large numbers to thank us.
I believe that if we get the ecology right, the Earth will be the planet with the best environment. Here I and the big tree mom say to the people, "Thank you."
2. Who has a leaf storyThe last leaf ah
Said a girl with tuberculosis, always very pessimistic, thought he was going to die, to the winter every day to count the vine leaves on the wall across the street, said that the last leaf fell out of the time when it was also her life to the end of the time, watching the leaves one by one by the piercing cold wind blew off, her mood more and more depressed! After a night of great wind and rain, she had thought that all the leaves would fall out, leaving only the bare vine, but he did not expect that there is actually a leaf standing on the branch. It turned out that the girl she lived with had braved the storm to draw a leaf on the wall that night, but the girl contracted a disease that cold night and died. It's a very touching story.
3. "A leaf" as the theme of a fairy tale (roughly) 50 wordsOne evening, I walked in the neighborhood, suddenly found a camellia tree "lying" under some leaves, they are crystal clear, green shiny, like a piece of jasper, I picked up a piece of it, as if I picked up a treasure, held back home.
I carefully scrutinized this green leaf at home, only to see that it has the size of an egg, a flat body, its entire body is covered with tiny veins, like a four-way highway, but also like crisscrossing rivers and streams, how magical!
I carefully touched it again with my hand, the leaf surface is smooth like a mirror, the petiole to the tip of the leaf from thick to thin, I was watching with bated breath. Suddenly, like something stabbed my hand, "Ouch, it hurts me." I can not help but scream out loud, carefully looked again, it turned out that there are some jagged things on the edge of the leaf, like a sharp chainsaw, from this, I was reminded of the carpenter's grandfather - Lu Ban invented the story of the saw, he was also a strange leaf not small cut his hand, and thus inspired, invented the saw, it seems that Nature is really a good teacher and friend of our human beings!
I couldn't help but put the leaves under my nose and smelled them, a light fragrance came to my nose, really refreshing, comfortable.
I thought, "If it smells so good, then it must taste delicious. At once, I salivated, pulled down a small leaf, put in the mouth bite, first feel a little bitter, and a little astringent, and finally even bit out the flavor of jujube, for then, I feel like how I tasted all kinds of herbs, for the benefit of the people of Li Shizhen ah!
Looking at this small leaf, I can not help but think: "Do not look at this just a piece of sunlight it will photosynthesize, synthesize nutrients, dedication to the tree, but also for humans to purify the air, reduce the noise, beautify the environment. After the leaves fall, but also to the trees as fertilizer, to dedicate themselves to the trees. A small leaf, but its role is not small!
When I think of this, I can not help but think of the ancient poem: "The falling flower is not a heartless thing, into the spring mud more protective flowers."
I like this beautiful and magical leaves, more like the silent, selfless leaves
4. A leaf story outlineA leaf falls to know the world's autumn, this is the ancient remote thought, the ancients a wisdom. Simply put: the fall is just made up of thousands of falling leaves, only the ancients had more of a state of mind, more of a thought, they can elegantly create a point of Zen. The philosophy of the ancients was created in an instant in the observation of things erudite. They dig out the whole fall from a falling leaf, which requires a heart of how clear.
But in modern life, not in the village green field wandering, but in the reinforced concrete. The essence of the commodity economy has been y injected into the hearts of modern people, squeezing out people's leisure.
The digital life has no passion, no poetry. People's heartstrings just care about those vanity, fame and fortune. Muddled and drowned in the firewood, rice, oil and salt.
From the library to turn out that dusty book of poems for a long time, the content is just a song and dance of life praise and lonely narrative, but few people on the philosophical thinking and suspense, I do not know in the end is the degradation of the human ability to learn, or the spirit of enlightenment?
The leaves under the tree are more often than not swept into the garbage by the merciless broom, no better home than this - in this urban land.
I would like to ask how many flowers fall in my dreams?
How many people are no longer attached to the falling leaves, the passionate fall is no longer poetry. The poet's eyes have also long been dry.
There is a small fish in the place of falling leaves,
There is only a wisp of residual fragrance left in the season of falling leaves.
People say that success can not be achieved overnight, but thoughts can be.
Legend has it that there is a cliff where the flowers fall. Cliff, desperate and craggy people look at the end of the world, can only stop and sigh at the cliff, red face in the shore but can not transition, perhaps the air is not buoyant, and waiting is still going on.
People say: fish and bird life does not intersect. But the beautiful word "sea and sky" continues to circulate.
Azure lines outline the infinite dreams, there is a kind of expectation, a few points of helplessness. The storm belongs to the sky, the waves, the tsunami, the tide belongs to the sea, they are on different sides of the sky, but they are far away from each other.
The teacher had said that parallel lines have no intersection, is it sentimental? In fact, intersecting straight lines in that moment after the meeting will go their separate ways, and then become silent. Although their bodies once touched each other, but at the moment the silence but depression in the heart. The good thing about parallel lines is that they go all the way together, regardless of whether they are sad or calm.
Occasionally there are sunny days. The sunshine of the sea fish scales, the sea at the moment is a fish. So there are birds soaring in the air. Fish and birds did not meet, only that waves and tides. It was a sensational moment, yet calmness took over. There is no reason for the meeting to come at this time. The bird can watch the fish's graceful dance, and the fish can look up at the bird's athletic body. This is enough, looking at each other may be the best expression.
Another day, the bird is still flying. But spied a big fish is chasing the small fish. At this time, another lightning fell from the sky. A splash of water erupts where the sea meets the sky from the two killing auras.
The fish got closer to the bird and flew away again.
The bird strolls through the clouds. And the fish is contained in its mouth.
At last the sea also returned to its calm, dead calm.
The waves disappeared, the sea's aria stopped at that moment, and the tears dried up.
The water inside the fish was finally swallowed by the sun. A piece of dried fish is contained in the bird's mouth. The bird is the meat of flight.
Life remains silent and sorrow remains.
The infinite verve of the night makes all men submit to it and sleep in its bosom, yet there are just some who do not follow, so they stay up late, they use the time to write, to paint, to think, to work ...... to continue the day's labors. Thus they trample the night and waste the day. But people are still speechless, and are repeating the same mistakes again, without rest.
No one knows why this is, but no one speaks either.
Perhaps silence is the best life.
5. The Story of a Leaf 200 Words (Grade 4)(I)
The Story of a Leaf
A long, long time ago, there was a very big holly tree who felt that she was getting old and useless, and that she shouldn't leave her children behind, and that she should let them get to know the big world.
One day, the holly tree said to her children, "Babies, you can't stay with mommy all the time, you have to go around the world to take root on your own!" "No, no, mom, we want to be by your side forever!" The little holly leaves rose up in opposition.
The holly tree and hurriedly said: "Babies, we holly tree is not falling leaves, to fall is also fall those withered, you if you do not go around the world to see, we holly tree can not go elsewhere to flourish, the family footprints can not go all over the north and south of the river!" "Huh? Mom is right," the little holly leaves quietly discussed again, "Well, mom, you must take care of ah!" "Well, you must take care, bye!"
The little holly leaves floated down from the tree mother. Some fell into the soil, into the holly tree mother's fertilizer; some fell into the trees next to the other trees crowded out; there are also some floating to the far ......
Floating to the far side of the little holly leaves happy travel, they floated to the desert above, think the desert has a gold, and would like to fall down. At this time, the sun Gong rushed to them, said, "children, you can not fall ah, to the bottom, you will be drought death!" Most of the little holly leaves thought the sun was right and floated away. However, a few leaves did not listen to the advice of the Sun Gong fell down, and ended up being dried up.
The rest of the little holly leaves continued to float, floating over a stream, they want to fall down again, the clouds sister stopped them, said to them, "brother leaves, you must not go down, will be drowned!" But some more little holly leaves fell and drowned. Only the last little holly leaf was left, he floated and floated, floated to a place full of blackness, just wanted to go down, unexpectedly a little worm fell on him, causing him to fall into the brook. He made friends with the bug and floated on the stream with it, trying to land several times, but being blown back into the stream by the wind. Now it was winter, and the weather was cold. The little worm sighed, not realizing that the exhaled breath had turned into a crystalline silk worm! The silk worm hangs onto a dead branch on the bank and pulls the worm and the little holly leaves up the bank. The weather was surprisingly cold, the little worm carried the little holly leaves towards the fertile soil in front of them, the little worm crawled hard, tired and panting, the little holly leaves rushed to say: "Friend, take a rest!" "No, victory is at hand, I cannot rest!"
The bugs continued to climb forward, they finally climbed to the fertile soil, the bugs struggled to use their mouths to dig the soil, back of the small holly leaves into a small hole. They snuggled up in the little hole and fell asleep. The next year, in the small insects and small holly leaves lying over the place, people surprised to find: there is a small holly sapling, standing straight there, bathed in sunshine, rain, thrive, there is a big spotted butterfly dancing beside it, and from time to time fell on its delicate leaves gently, slowly, quietly and it spoke ......
(2)
The story of a leaf
Spring came, and the sun was warm and quiet, shining on the earth. The sky was wiped very bright by the spring rain, like a sapphire covering the earth.
"Clatter, clatter ......"! A spring rain fell, as if to inform me that I was going to be born!
I drilled, I drilled, I drilled! Wonderful, I finally saw nature, this wonderful everything is a hundred times more beautiful than I imagined: turquoise grass slopes with a group of small children chasing; colorful flowers with swarms of bees in the honey; rainbow after the rain is even more moving ......
I'm a new member of the Magnolia family, and I'm always proud of myself to be a proud of being a member of the magnolia family. Because, I can smell the fragrance of the flowers every day, and whenever passers-by praise the magnolia tree, I also follow to enjoy the honor. My friends and I joined together to become a nest of birds, and their songs were like heavenly music. They sang with full concentration, and what a beautiful sound! At that moment, I felt that their music was superior to all music on earth, and that it was something that only the birds could play.
Three months have passed, and I am no longer a tender leaf, and now I have grown into a thick, green leaf. From time to time, I see tourists smiling to take my "sisters" home to do specimens, I am very happy, because they are so cherish us, like us.
Autumn came, my body "skin color" gradually turning yellow, I know my life is coming to an end. "Hoo--" At this time, "the sister of the autumn wind" to this "through". I said goodbye to my brothers and sisters, and then I floated down like a butterfly, saying goodbye to my home. After a period of time on the land, I melted in the soil. I not only protect the flowers and plants, but also give the earth more nutrients. It is true that "the red is not an unfeeling thing, turned into spring mud to protect the flowers".
6. good sentences and paragraphs describing the leaves of the treebranches and leaves, green trees, green shade, green shade surrounded by lush green, handsome and upright, tall and majestic, grasses and trees, green, straight into the sky, tall and upright, ten thousand trees, ten thousand trees, ancient trees in the sky, trees and trees, verdant, the sea of forests, the sea of forests, the sea of forests, lush forests, bamboos, bamboo, iron tree blossoms, the Green Wall, the Green Corridor, the bamboo tree ringed with the pine waves, the branches of the leafy, green, verdant, verdant, deep-rooted, leafy, and green, the green, verdant, verdant, verdant, verdant. Willow, willow, light smoke, willow shadow, fruit trees, gnarled branches, dragon's claw, towering into the clouds, towering into the sky, rooted and interlaced, weather-beaten, thousand shapes and forms, gleaming and graceful, fighting into the snow, and vibrant, 1, the campus lawn, the grass sneaked out, as if to the earth in a green uniform; beautiful building quietly said to me: "I'll protect you from the wind and the rain, you have to study hard," he said. "
The scenery around me seems to be saying to me, "We all have achievements, have you got it? Let's race!" 2, the autumn wind, full of trees, "small fan" swing up, issued "rustling" sound, for people to bring a hint of autumn coolness. Some of the "little fan" down, like a dancing yellow butterfly.
The leaves on the mountain are too many, there are feathers like phoenix leaves, there are oil green pine needles, there are large pieces of magnolia leaves, so that I am dazzled, dazzled. 3, floating, floating, floating, falling leaves are still there hovering in the fall.
It does not seem to be attached to the branch, nor worried about fate, but only in search of their own home. It thought: since his life has an unusual beginning, then, there should be an unusual end.
4, a piece of dark green leaves in the air gently floating down, I caught a leaf, carefully examined. It should be a magnolia leaf, right? It is green on the front, smooth and hard to the touch, like a small shield.
The back of the leaf has some brown hairs, with the hand on the top of the gently pulled, comfortable. 5, a bright red pomegranate flowers hanging in the tree, the pomegranate tree dressed up like a shy girl.
6, summer leaves are a kind of dark green, some leaves on the body is very cool, for example: mint grass, not only can be put on the back, but also can be put in the mouth, the feeling of ice cold, and mint fragrance, cool! It's very important to soak them in cold water for a few seconds though. Summer leaves can also form a large umbrella, no wonder in the summer people like to cool under the tree.
7, the poplar tree leaves a little yellow, the autumn wind blew, poplar tree shaking, as if it has been old, can not stand. 8, the crops can be happy, because they have borne fruit, are talking about: "You see, I bear fruit how big ah, in the crops I can rank first!" "You see, my fruit is no worse than yours." The water is like a rippling wave.
Autumn leaves constitute a wonderful picture. 10, my favorite colorful maple leaves, it is red and purple from a distance look at the maple tree as if a group of fire is burning the earth.
The shape of the maple leaf is like a claw, but also like a chubby little hand touch it you will feel how soft and smooth it is. But the edges of its leaves are a bit abrasive like jagged teeth.
11, autumn leaves are really colorful, different forms, red with green, green with yellow. There are fan-shaped.
Needle-shaped. Some are thick, some are thin, some are long, some are short.
If you look closely, you will find its unique beauty. 12, the leaves leave, is the power of the wind, or the tree can not be retained.
My longing - the leaves return. I do not want to lose them again, perhaps I once did not cherish, perhaps I can not retain, perhaps in the predicament I can not protect them.
I am ashamed to be a tree with leaves, if I can undo it, I will cherish it more, and I will protect every leaf that belongs to me with my true heart.13. A thick ginkgo tree with yellowed leaves.
Huh? There are a few yellow butterflies chasing and playing in front of it, floating slowly to the earth. I reached out my hands to catch it.
Yo, it turned out to be the child of the ginkgo tree - ginkgo biloba. It grows like a fan, the original bright green leaf edge has begun to yellow, deep yellow leaf veins connected to the petiole.
I gently blew on it, it slid down my hand, back to where it really belongs - the embrace of Mother Earth. 14, that pomegranate each grows cracked slit, revealing like teeth like pomegranate seeds, the top few leaves all together, like a bow, make it more beautiful.
15, summer, the leaves grow luxuriantly, leaving no gap. Like a parasol can not only shield people from the hot sun, and strong sunlight, but also purify the air.
Beautify the environment, add infinite vitality to the world. 16, late fall, this tree pomegranate all cracked mouth, as if a blooming flowers.
17, in the fall, the leaves took off its emerald green summer clothes, replaced with golden autumn clothes. Breaking free from the embrace of the mother tree, floating down to every corner of the earth, to visit the fields to see the fiery red sorghum; greetings to the golden corn; go to the orchard to see the red apples, and yellow pears; go to the vegetable field to see the cabbages to tell them I'm going away, I'll be back next year.
18, I strolled to the woods next to a maple tree, far away, as if a blazing fire burning, close up, as if a red cloud on the treetops. I came to the tree, picked a maple leaf, only to see that the maple leaf has five small petals, each small petal leaves around a lace.
Looking at it, a picture rose in my mind: a fish tank, a small goldfish swinging its big tail swimming there. At this time, I remembered a poem: "Stop the car and sit in the maple forest late, the frost leaves are redder than the flowers in February."
19, a thick ginkgo tree, the leaves have withered yellow. Huh? There are still a few yellow butterflies chasing and playing in front of it, floating slowly to the earth.
I reached out and caught it. Yo, it turned out to be the child of the ginkgo tree - ginkgo biloba.
It grows like a fan, the original emerald green leaf edges have begun to yellow, and the deep yellow leaf veins are connected to the petiole. I gently to it.
7. "A Leaf's Story" essay how to writeThe first way to write: from the perspective of the leaf, the use of anthropomorphism, to the leaf's confession to form an article
The second way to write: from the perspective of the human, view the cycle of the leaf, you can write about the leaves throughout the year, the life of the leaf and so on
Sample Essay I am a leaf, a very ordinary leaf. In other people's eyes, I may be an inconspicuous thing, only by the playful children arbitrarily picked off, torn, or in the fall and partners together with the yellow, fall, become rotten mud. But in our world, it is glorious. All things in this world, the meaning of survival is to give. April 3, I woke up and found that I was born! Everyone and I greeted: "Hello, the 597th leaf, welcome to the world, I hope you healthy growth, become a member of our family!" Oh, I am the 597th leaf on the tree this year! I answered them, "Hello, thank you all for paying attention to me." April 26th and voila! In just two weeks, I've grown from a young leaf that was given nutrients by someone else to a really useful leaf that works and gives nutrients to the tree's mother. I'm so happy! I will try my best to photosynthesize so that the tree and I can grow even stronger! Today, June 11th, is "Thrive Day" for us leaves, because from now on, we will grow faster and become big, healthy leaves sooner. Because the days are getting hotter and longer, we have more time to make nutrients and grow. I must grow the biggest and become one of the most contributing leaves. Because this title is a symbol of working harder and more diligently than others. It is one of the most important titles we have.September 19Now, our mother tree has borne so many fruits, and those beautiful and delicious fruits are very popular with human beings. They always come to the forest in groups to gather their favorite fruits. Now they don't say, "This tree grows so thick!" Instead, they will say, "This tree has so many fruits, so big!" Instead of being sad to hear this, I'm happier because it's not only the fruit of the tree's mother, it's also our fruit. Because without our hard work, the tree mother could not have produced so much fruit. 27 October in two weeks ago, my brothers and I one by one turned yellow, and then slowly drifted down to the ground, ready to cover a thick blanket for the tree mother, so as to withstand the cold. Three days ago, I was honored to receive the honorary title of "Most Contributed Leaf" at the award ceremony, so I have no regrets in dying. But this is not the real death, this can be considered "the falling red is not an unfeeling thing, into the mud of spring to protect more flowers." Right! I want to turn into a piece of spring mud, to complete the last mission of my life.
The Last Leaf In a neighborhood west of Washington Square, the streets are all stretched out horizontally and splintered into small "alleyways".
These "alleyways" take odd turns. Sometimes a street itself crosses more than once.
Once a painter realized that this street had a kind of superiority: if a bill collector came to this street to demand money for paints, papers and canvases, he would suddenly find himself empty-handed, and return the same way, without getting a penny of the bill! So it wasn't long before quite a few painters groped their way into this quaint old Greenwich Village, seeking north-facing windows, 18th century peaked hill walls, Dutch attics, and low rents. Then they bought some waxed wine glasses and a fondue pot or two from Sixth Street, and the area became the "Arts District".
Sue and Josie's studio was on the top floor of a short, wide, three-story brick house. "Josie" was Joanna's nickname.
The two were from Maine and California. They met over a meal at the Del Monico House on Eighth Street, and, realizing that they shared a passion for art, lettuce salads, and fashion, shared the studio.
That was in May. By November, a cold, invisible, uninvited visitor, whom doctors called "pneumonia," was stalking the art district, touching here and there with his icy fingers.
At the east end of the plaza, the vandal strides blatantly, knocking down dozens of victims at a time, but in the maze of narrow, moss-covered "alleyways," his pace slows. Mr. Pneumonia is not the chivalrous old gentleman you think he is.
A weak woman, thin and bloodless from the California westerly winds, should not have been the target of this red-fisted, short-breathing old man's blows. Yet Josie was struck; she lay motionless on a painted iron bed, staring out the tiny Dutch glass window at the empty wall of the brick house across the street.
One morning the busy doctor raised his shaggy, grayish-white eyebrows and called Sue out into the hallway. "The way I see it, there's only a tenth of a hope of recovery from her illness," he said, as he flung down the column of mercury in his thermometer, "and that one hope is the thought of her wanting to live.
Some people don't seem to want to live, preferring to take care of the undertaker's business and literally rendering the entire medical profession helpless. Your friend concludes that she is not going to be cured.
Is there something on her mind?" "She-she hopes to paint the Bay of Naples someday." Sue said.
"Painting? --what nonsense! Is there anything in her head that she should think of over and over again--a man, for instance?" "A man?" Sue tugged at her voice like a harmonica, "Is a man worth - no, Doctor, there's no such thing." "All the power that can be attained to cure her.
But if my patient starts counting the number of carriages that will take her out of mourning, I'll have to reduce the effect of the treatment by fifty percent. If you can think of a question or two that will interest her in the fashionable style of winter coat sleeves, then I can assure you that I can raise the chances of curing her from one in ten to one in five."
After the doctor had gone, Sue went into the studio and wept a Japanese napkin into a wet ball. Later she walked into Jonsey's house with a drawing pad in her hand, pretending to be in high spirits and whistling jazz tunes out of her mouth.
Josie was lying down, her face toward the window, her body motionless under the covers. Sue thought she was asleep and hurried to stop whistling.
She set up her drawing board and began to draw a pen illustration for the story in the magazine. Young painters had to illustrate stories in magazines in order to pave the way to art, and these were stories that young writers had to write in order to pave the way to literature.
Sue was in the process of painting a pair of fashionable breeches worn at horse fairs and a monocle on the main character of the story, an Idaho rancher, when she suddenly heard a low voice repeated several times. She walked quickly to the bedside.
Josie's eyes were wide open. She looked out the window and counted ...... backwards.
"Twelve," she counted, pausing for a moment to add, "Eleven," then "Ten," and "Nine. and then "10," and "9," followed by "8" and "7" almost simultaneously. Sue looked out the window with concern.
What was there to count? Just an empty, dark yard with the empty wall of a brick house 20 feet away. A very old ivy, its withered roots tangled together, its branches climbing halfway up the brick wall.
The cold winds of fall had blown almost all the leaves off the vine, and almost all but the bare branches remained tangled in the peeling brickwork. "What is it, dear?" Sue asked.
"Six," Josie whispered almost in a whisper, "they're falling faster and faster now. There were almost a hundred pieces three days ago.
My head hurt from counting. But it's better now.
Another piece has fallen. Only five slices left."
"Five pieces of what, dear. Tell that to your Sudie."
"Leaves. On the ivy.
By the time the last leaf falls, it's time for me to go. I knew about this three days ago.
Didn't the doctor tell you?" "Humph, I never heard such foolishness," said Sue, quite unimpressed; "what have those broken ivy leaves to do with whether you are well or not? Didn't you used to love this tree? You naughty boy. Don't say silly things.
See, the doctor was telling me this morning that the chances of your speedy recovery were, let me say word for word what he said-he said ninety per cent. Oh, that's almost as sure as we're going to get on a trolley or walk through a new building in New York.
Have some soup, and let Sudie go and paint her picture so that she can sell it to Mr. Editor for money to buy some claret for her sick child and some pork chops for herself to quench her thirst." "You needn't buy any wine," said Josie, with her eyes fixed straight out of the window; "another piece has fallen.
No, I don't want soup. There are only four slices left.
I want to wait and see that last leaf fall before it gets dark. And then I'm going too."
"Josie, dear," Sue said, leaning down to her, "promise you'll close your eyes and not look out of the window until I've finished drawing, will you? I have to turn in these illustrations tomorrow. I need the light, or I'll pull down the curtains."
"You can't go into that room and draw.