A Saturday morning in the spring after homework, idle, by hand to bring a "Zhu Ziqing prose collection" sitting in front of the door to read: "Looking forward to, looking forward to, the east wind came, the footsteps of the spring is close.
Everything is like just waking up like, gladly opened his eyes ...... "This popular prose y attracted me, make me happy, make me intoxicated. Lift your eyes and look around, can't help but gently "ah!" A sound, in front of the eyes is not exactly colorful, vibrant and beautiful spring scenery? You see, the recovery of all things bathed in soft sunshine, wet soil soaked in sweet spring rain, everywhere presenting a thriving scene: the beauty of the angels, the elves of spring - flowers with their own beautiful posture, bright colors, embellished with the earth, so that the spring is more fascinating, more enchanting.
Look! Tender yellow spring flowers, white daffodils, light green orchids, pink peach blossoms ...... they make up the earth beautiful purple and red, and send out a burst of tantalizing aroma, a hundred flowers compete, the scene of flowers! Seeing the flowers so hard, the trees are of course not willing to lag behind. Look! The soft spring breeze is kissing the earth just woke up, the green mist swirling in the willow branches ......, willow tree branches have unfolded on the long yellow leaves, gently swaying in the breeze; that high and low are full of red flowers of the cottonwood tree, like a group of burning fire, really spectacular; peach trees are full of peach blossoms, pink, pink, like a piece of morning glory. Pink, like a piece of sunset ...... is really a million trees competing for spring ah! The lively swallows come and go, the air from time to time to come their chirping sound of joy.
The beautiful butterflies flapped colorful wings in the flowers dance. A swarm of small bees in the hard work for human beings to brew sweet honey ......, this swallow, this butterfly, this bee to the beautiful spring added infinite interest.
In the field, people are diligently sowing seeds. A farmer uncle sitting on a tractor, start the machine, a line of newly turned black soil stretched under the tractor.
Reflecting the blue sky of the paddy fields, some have been inserted into the tender, green seedlings, from a distance like a carpet; close up like a green yarn.
Looking at everything in front of me, I can not help but cheer from the inside: ah, what a lovely spring.
2. Sentences in the article on writing sceneryWhen you walk to the end of the water, you sit and watch the clouds rise.
The falling sun and the lonely ducks fly together, and the autumn water **** the long sky in one color.
The light rain on the sky street is as moist as crisp, and the color of the grass looks near but not there.
The moonlight, I scooped up a cup of the most clear, falling afterglow; I embrace a wisp of the most ambiguous; burning red leaves, I pick up a piece of the hottest; luxuriant grass, I pick a bunch of the most splendid; long life, I want to pick up the world's most important - perseverance ● Lake is alive, layers of scales and waves with the wind, accompanied by jumping sunshine, accompanied by my heart The lake is alive, with waves of scales rising with the wind, accompanied by jumping sunlight, accompanied by my heart.
● The lake is whispering faintly in the dry grass, and from time to time in the distance comes the sound of one or two ducklings fluttering their wings, which makes the lake on a moonlit night even more lonely and cold.
● several leaves of white sails, in this water and sky color golden sea, like a few pieces of snow-white feathers, lightly floating, floating.
● The sea is full of water, shining in the setting sun, waves like naughty little children like jumping uncertainly, the water is a golden light.
● The lake is hard, like a flawless emerald shimmering with a beautiful luster.
● The lake is quiet, like a mirror, clearly reflecting the blue sky, white clouds, red flowers, green trees.
● The lake is flooded with a mist like green smoke, and when you look at the mountains from afar, you can only faintly discern the gray shadow of the mountains.
● The waves are a wonder of the sea, but she is more like a dancer, she can make people leave their worries behind and enjoy themselves.
● The sea is so blue that one feels that the color of emerald is too light, and the color of sapphire is too deep, and it is difficult to describe it even if one is a famous master.
● The sun shines on the surface of the lake with fine waves, like a layer of glittering broken silver on the water, and like a green satin that has been crumpled.
Cold melodies, silent and cold colors outline the theme of winter. Fine rain. Fluttering. The sky is not cold. Winter walks in style. Flying snow flickers accompanied by the fading of rain. The silken bamboo of winter rain blows the prelude to snowflakes. Winter colors become deeper and deeper in the haze. From sighing to hissing, the cold wind calls out a "nine-nine"! Look! Light snowflakes, wandering in the end of the rain. Void footprints, noiseless, leading the winter cold running away ......... snowflakes light flying dance, free and unrestrained, gliding in the rain-colored sky. I silently looked at the snow sprite flying down from the sky. That gently flying approach is a transmission of winter news! Even if it melts in the air it is a brave flight down! I was taken in by the lightness of the Converse open-mouthed smile snowflake! Snow's illusory leave cold, and rain is a real encounter. Snowflakes trembling hands, silently draped in lines of ice crystals. Winter rhythm is richer because of the snowsuit! Light snowflakes small. But love in the creation of winter feelings, dedication to the harsh winter sunshine, for the true meaning of winter dedication of the heart! No snow-colored winter how can! How can winter without the flying song of snowflakes? Winter is a silver truth ...........
3. Essay topic: I still remember Word count: 600 Requirements: Narrative essay, at least insert a paragraph of the writing of the scene of the passage When the autumn wind drove away the summer heat, with a slight coolness quietly arrived, autumn with her period of the paintbrush for us to depict a splendid and colorful picture scroll.
The leaves on both sides of the road gradually turned yellow, in the autumn wind blowing, like a beautiful yellow butterfly dance, floating down to the ground, spread all over the earth. Emerald green grass is also gradually withered, become yellow, and leaves intertwined together, constituting a huge yellow carpet. Oh, fall is yellow.
In the mountains there are many maple leaves, these green hills have been colored red by the maple forest. The piece of red leaves, a cluster of red leaves look like the evening sun in the sky, the whole sky red, they are also like a fierce burning flame, blooming red light. Oh, the fall is also fire red.
Sheepish autumn rain with gusts of autumn wind pattering down, moisturizing the earth, the air is filled with the fragrance of the soil. Rain gradually stopped, look up, the sky is how blue ah, a few thin clouds in the slowly floating, the clouds appear particularly light, like the girl's white dress. The blue sky is so attractive and beautiful. Oh, the fall is still blue.
The white wild chrysanthemums along the countryside are opening everywhere. Although she is not as rich as peonies, not as delicate as dahlias, not as elegant as orchids, but she is so simple, flawless, like a white hatha. Oh, the fall is white.
In the fields, the heavy ears of wheat bent over. Autumn winds blowing, the wheat waves rolled, endless. The sun shines on the earth, looking at a golden yellow, as if it is sprinkled on the earth of the ten thousand golden light. And the fragrant osmanthus flowers, which are my favorite flower, are clusters and clusters of golden osmanthus flowers, which are fairies wearing golden clothes and hairpins. They are fairies wearing golden clothes and hairpins.
Autumn is so beautiful, she is woven by colorful colors, yellow, red, blue, white, and golden, as the rainbow after the rain.
I love the beautiful autumn colors and the cool autumn breeze
4. Landscape description of the beginning of the essay plus the title of the essayLandscape description
Cutting, reasoning, is the sorrow, but also some other taste in the heart"
I do not want to step on the green stone plate to sing, because of the potholes on the surface, as my heart lost the confidence, the devastation, the loss of the heart. I've lost my faith in my heart, and it's devastated.
The shoulder strap of the schoolbag strangled two thin traces on the shoulder, very painful, very heavy. Looking at the drooping sunset orange colored near at hand, like to melt like to drip tears. You are crying for me?
At the end of the night, everything is all in the sleep, I sat alone at the window, looking at the bright moonlight, not the slightest lack of a little haggard, but also evoked my heavy sadness, but the arrival of a downpour, seems to be to wash away my sadness.
5. The composition sets the scene of the prose beginning, thank you.Good Words: sun sunrise sunrise bright sun golden sun cool sun residual sun oblique sun red sun 朝日 烈日 炎日 赤日 spring sun summer sun autumn sun winter sunset solar eclipse solar halo sun shadow sun wheel 日夕 火轮 金轮 红轮 sunshine 阳婆 晨曦霞光 朝晖 夕晖 春晖 夕阳 余阳斜晖 艳阳落阳 residual sunshine 火伞 日头 紅轮 火轮 金輪落日 sunshine splendid 夺目 dazzling dazzling scorching cool cool cool sun 日头 日日 日落 日出火热 hot hot hot inflammation 光光光光. Fireball, golden yellow, bright red, fiery red, slightly red, light red, vermilion, purple, ochre, crimson, scarlet, the rising sun, red, golden, hot, warm, bright, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red. The sun rises three feet high The sun rises three feet high The sun rises three feet high The sun rises three feet high The sun rises three feet high The sun rises three feet high The sun rises three feet high The sun rises three feet high The sun rises three feet high The sun rises three feet high The sun rises three feet high The sun rises three feet high The sun rises three feet high The sun rises three feet high The sun rises three feet high The sun rises three feet high The sun rises three feet high The sun rises three feet high The sun rises three feet high The sun rises three feet high The sun rises three feet high The sun rises three feet high The sun rises three feet high The sun rises three feet high The sun rises three feet high The sun rises three feet high The sun rises three feet high The sun rises three feet high The sun rises three feet high The sun rises three feet high The sun is high in the sky The sun is mid-day The sun is mid-day The sun is past noon The sun is hot The sun is high tomorrow The sun is high The sun is hot The sun is poisonous The sun is full The sun is high The sun is in the sky The sun is in the sky The sun is high The sun is proud The sun is high The sun is high The sun is high Spring sun is brilliant Autumn sun is bright The sun is bright Autumn sun is bright The sun is high in the sky The sun is high in the sky The sun is low noon After the rain, the sun is clear The sun is flat and the sun is west The sun is low in the west The sun is low in the west The sun is low in the west The sun is high in the west The sun is high in the west The sun is high in the west The sun is high in the west The sun is low in the west The sun is high in the west The sun is high in the west The sun is setting like blood, the sun is on fire, the sun is red, the sun is falling, the sun is going to fall, the sun is going to fall, the sun is going to fall, the sun is going to fall, the sun is going to fall, the sun is going to fall, the sun is going to sink, the sun is going to be oblique, the sun is going to be reflecting, the sun is still shining, the sun is late, the sun is going to fall, the sun is going to fall, the sun is sinking, the sun is going to enter the mountain, the sun is still shining. The sun is like blood, the sun is like blood, the sun is going to fall, the sun is fading, the sun is going to fall, the sun is falling. The red sun is going to fall. The red sun is going to fall, the red sun is going to fall, the red sun is sinking. The red sun is going to fall. The red sun is going to fall. The sun is setting in the west, the sun is pressing down on the mountains, the sun is sinking in the west, the sun is falling in the west, the sun is falling in the west, the sun is setting in the west, the sun is setting in the west, the sun is rising, the sun is setting in the west, the sun is falling in the west, the sun is setting in the western mountains, the sun is setting, a slanting sun, a sunset, a sunset, a sunset, a sunset, a sunset, a sunset, a sunset, a sunset, a sunset, a sunset, a sunset, a sunset, a sunset, a sunset, a sunset, a sunset, a sunset, a sunset, a sunset, a sunset, a sunset, a sunset, a sunset, a sunset, a sunset, a sunset, a sunset, a sunset. Spraying out, the golden light is dazzling.
In the morning, the sun is like a new bride who just went out, shyly showing half a face. The sun is setting, it's that extraordinarily strong light from the treetops jet, the white clouds into the color of blood, the green mountains into the color of blood.
The sun slowly through the clouds, revealing a long swollen red face, like a shy little girl looking at the earth. Bright sunlight through the gap between the leaves, through the early fog, a ray of sprinkled all over the campus.
The sun was lower, blood red, and the water was a dazzling eye-watering expanse of light that stretched from the edge of the ocean right up to the edge of the boat. The sky was dyed blood-red by the setting sun, and the peach-colored clouds were reflected in the running water; the whole river turned purple, and the sky seemed to be ablaze with fire.
Spring, the sun is warm, it stretches out the warmth of the big hand, rubbing people all over the body comfortable. A gust of spring wind, blowing away the clouds, the sun is happy to reveal a smiling face, the warmth and light sprinkled all over the lake.
The hot sun hangs high in the sky, and the red light shoots to the ground like a rocket, and the ground is on fire, reflecting the flames of the oil as it boils and fries. I didn't dare to look up at the sun, but I felt that it was dazzling everywhere, in the air, on the roof, on the ground, all of them were bright white, white with a bit of red, from top to bottom the whole thing was like a very big mirror of fire, and every strip was the focus of the mirror of fire, as if everything was about to burn up.
Late fall, the sun hangs lazily in the sky, like an old man showing his smiling face dozing. The sun in late fall is covered with a reddish-orange lampshade, radiating a soft light, shining on the body, face, warm.
As soon as the sun arrives in the fall, it spreads its light all over the earth. See, the fields are golden, the grounds are golden, the mountains are also golden.
The sun in winter is as pale as the moon. The sun is being entangled in thin clouds and putting out a pale dazzling white light.
The sun works hard all year long, and in winter, it is so exhausted that it can hardly release any heat. The warmth of the sun, through the dense foliage sprinkled down, into a point of golden light spots.
The distant lofty mountains, reflected in the sun, put on a golden yellow coat, looks particularly beautiful. The sunlight was filtered by the layers of leaves, leaking into his body into a faint round gently swaying halo.
It was eight or nine o'clock in the morning, and the bright sunlight coated the leaves with ring after ring of golden-silver halos. The sun shone through the pale clouds and reflected a silvery light on the white earth, dazzling the eyes.
The golden sunlight pouring down, injected into the hectares of blue waves, so that the monotonous and calm sea and become some.
6. a beautifully written composition?The heart of grace Unfold a piece of paper called emotion, lift up a pen called gratitude, write about the parents who gave me life, write about the teachers who gave me knowledge, write about the classmates who gave me friendship, and write about a warm, grateful heart of mine.
A baby croaked to the ground, a baby happy to play, a student embarked on a journey ...... which surged how much warm and implicit affection! When the sweet dream is warm and beautiful, when the moon is bright and charming, when the flower season is bright and fragrant is, when the future is bright and open, with stubborn us in the quest for knowledge in the road to struggle; when the relentless wind, relentless waves suddenly attacked, perhaps, only pessimism and disappointment, only sadness and sighs. At this time, it is our parents let us see the eagle that dares to go up to the sky, see the dragon that dares to go down to the sea.
Let us believe that just let life deceive our hearts, let the tears blurred our eyes. Tell us that after the storm is still a sunny day, and after the moon is missing is still a full moon.
It is they who took us out of the missteps of life, it is they who taught us to challenge the difficulties, and it is they who made us raise the sails of life again after the failure! When the eagles face the blue sky, they know nothing, the heart is full of unraveling the mystery; now, with their strong wings to soar the sky, to find unknown answers. But no matter how high they fly, fly how far, will not forget their lovely home, will thank their parents to give them love.
Remember your first teacher? Remember the first words the teacher said to you? Remember the first time a teacher educated you? For that countless first time, hastily set up the heart of the boat, struggling in the sea. Several pay, several harvest, in the effort, "heart" of the boat ride the waves, sailing to our ideal.
In the teacher's help, the ideal manor is finally visible! At the crossroads of life, it is the teacher to reach out to us with a warm hand, that hand is a signpost, so we are in the uncertainty of the firm, in the thinking in the sobriety. It is the teacher who let us see the vast and boundless sky, it is the teacher who let us see the blue waves of the sea.
The teacher's wisdom into our brain wisdom, chest blood, external behavior. In the journey of life, it is the teacher enriched our hearts, developed our intelligence; for us to ignite the light of hope, give us the wings of the ideal, soaring in the sea of knowledge.
Because of the teacher's a piece of love watering, some of the hard work of cultivation, there will be the splendor of the peach and plum, the golden color of the rice and wheat. When we become the eagle soaring in the sky, when we become the dragon swimming in the sea, this is the teacher's credit, so we have to "heart" to thank the teacher.
A good teacher, not to mention a good friend, is not it? A person's life if there is no friend, can say nothing. And the classmates of the friendship of fellow students, years of living together, will be in a moment of outbreak, a moment of moving.
A few years, although only a brief moment, but we sing together friendship, singing hope, singing struggle, melted into a deep love. People often say that the friendship of comrades and classmates is the world's most sincere and eternal friendship, we have one of them, should we not be happy? Shouldn't we thank our classmates for giving us such a friendship? The years of life is a string of pearls; long years is a set of music, and the friendship of classmates is one of the most brilliant pearls, the most wonderful music.
Forever I remember, hands on my shoulders, how warm when the wind rises; forever I remember, accompanied by my growing back, with the vicissitudes of your years, for my life's happiness, happiness! Silence and obscurity educate the peaches and plums all over the world, the fist has the will to create the pillars of Xinghua China. In your calendar only spring, in your life, only for us to grow and sprout joy.
The morning sun, we hand in hand into the school, the sunset, we go home side by side; classroom, there is our mutual help figure, playground, there are our happy footprints; competition, a look, we understand, experiment, a gesture, we beads joint Bik ...... how many dynastic, precipitated our good friendship, leaving a good memory I thank my parents, my teachers, my classmates, for giving me a colorful life, for letting me have a warm, grateful heart! There is always a kind of true feelings can touch the most fragile ring in our hearts, there is always a kind of personality will drive us to constantly seek self-improvement, there is always a kind of touching can make us tearful. When Xu Benyu, one of the top ten people who moved China in 2004, walked onto the screen, his inner goodness was awakened, and there was something called tears filling his eyes.
Being wrapped in the dust of the world for too long, it has been a long time since I've cried so hard; being busy with work, it's been a long time since I've been in such a mood to let go. Originally thought that too much indifference in the world, has long been a lack of moving feelings, and this night I believe that many Chinese people and I, as well, got a wonderful catharsis, got an ethereal purification.
7. SentencesThe lake is alive, layers of scaly waves rise with the wind, accompanied by jumping sunlight, accompanied by my heart, in pursuit, and then play.
The lake murmured faintly in the dry grass, and from time to time in the distance came the sound of one or two ducklings fluttering their wings, which made the lake on the moonlit night more lonely and cold.
Several leaves of white sails, in this water and sky of golden sea, like a few pieces of snow-white feathers, lightly floating, floating.
The sea is full of water, shining in the setting sun, waves like naughty little children like jumping uncertainly, the water surface a golden light.
The lake is hard, like a flawless emerald shimmering with a beautiful luster.
The lake is quiet, like a mirror, clearly reflecting the blue sky, white clouds, red flowers and green trees.
The lake is flooded with a green smoke like mist, looking away from the mountains, only vaguely discernible gray mountains.
The waves are the wonders of the sea, but she is more like a dancer, she can make people leave their worries behind and enjoy.
The sea is so blue that one feels that the color of emerald is too light, and the color of sapphire is too deep, even if it is a famous master, it is difficult to describe.
The sunlight shines on the surface of the lake with fine waves, like a layer of glittering broken silver on the water, and like a green satin that has been crumpled.
The mountains, which are exposed to the clouds, seem to be suspended like islands in clusters and smears.
The surrounding mountains look like a colorful canvas.
The mountain waves and peaks are layered on top of each other.
The mountains are black and endless, and the cliffs are cut like a knife and an axe, and they stand on top of the sky.
The undulating loess hills are like the waves of a great flood.
The dragon hilltop, like a tomb towering in the night.
The mountains on both sides of the gorge rise and fall straight up and down, so high that it makes you dizzy.
The deep valleys are appallingly quiet and cold.
The ravines were filled with snow, as high as the backs of the mountains, and became great squares of flat, snow-covered ground.
The morning sun is shining, and the mountain is like a shy maiden, hidden, the sunset, the afterglow across the light.
8. Scenic Description Sentences in Narrative Essays2008 Hangzhou Intermediate Exam Full Score Essay: The Calendar of Life2008-08-26 20:08 Tear it down one by one, one by one, and one by one, and one by one, it sends your hope. --Title
I don't know how long it has been since I went to see her. Just childhood there are still the vague traces of her face with what looks like bright shiny silver threads, with the years settling down.
"Jingle bells", the morning of a phone ringing will wake me up from sleep, hang up the phone the moment, I froze. It felt like the world was drowning me in an instant - my grandmother had been in a car accident. When I rushed to the hospital, she was already lying in the intensive care center. Tears welled up in a flash. I took my grandfather's instructions and went back home to get a change of clothes.
Or that old house, laden with the flavors and memories of my childhood. Hesitantly walked up to the attic. Into the bedroom, the memory of the flavor of a surge out, is her flavor. Glancing over, I saw several large calendars on the desk, torn messily into one by one. The front of the calendars were ordinary, with ordinary dates, while the words on the back froze me in my tracks: "February 2003, Nui Nui went home with her parents today." "May 2003, Nui Nui called today to tell me to put on more clothes." "July 2004, Nui Nui had her promotion exam today." "February 2005, I looked at my daughter's picture today." "March 2005, my daughter hasn't come back for three months." "February 2006, my daughter hasn't called me for a long time." I flipped through all the torn calendars like crazy. There were details of the days and events that had happened between me and her, the hours and minutes. I couldn't believe it, but it was heartbreaking to remember how, in front of the dim light, she had written this little bit at her desk with her old glasses. How long have you not been back, how long have you not made a phone call, is it the busyness of school, or is it the estrangement and indifference of growing up? And she, and how to put hope in this one calendar, looking forward to my return to the childhood that pampered the girl?
I packed up this calendar, which was full of her hopes, and returned to the hospital. I was looking at the bed in front of that head wrapped in white gauze is still in a coma, tears once again out of the dike. I held her hand tightly and silently pleaded with God not to take her away from me.
The face on the bed is still the same face that loved me and loved me when I was a child, the bright shining silver threads, the calmness between the eyebrows. I quietly put the last piece of calendar paper, which was full of my heart's desire, into her hand, and murmured: "Grandma, wake up quickly, the inamorata is coming to see you, the inamorata will not let you count the calendar again, wake up quickly ......