Fourth grade follow the wave of writing essays

1. The author of the first lesson of the fourth grade language book not only wrote about what he saw with his own eyes of the tide, but also wrote

It is the "Tidal Wave," right!

The eighteenth day of the eighth month of the lunar calendar is the annual tide watching day. In the morning, we went to Yanguan Town in Haining County, which is said to be the best place to watch the tide.

We climbed up the Haitang embankment with the tide-watching crowd.

We climbed up the Haitang embankment with the tide watching crowd.

The surface of the river is very calm, the further east the wider, in the sunshine after the rain, covered with a layer of mist. The ancient pagoda of Zhenhai, Zhongshan Pavilion and Tide Watching Platform are standing on the riverside.

In the distance, a few hills loom in the clouds. The river tide has not yet come, the sea pond embankment has already been crowded with people.

We all look east, wait and hope.

They are the only ones who have ever been in a position to do so, and they are the only ones who have ever been in a position to do so.

All of a sudden there was a lot of noise, and someone told us that the tide was coming in! We stood on tiptoe and looked east, the river was still calm, could not see any change.

After a while, the sound got louder and louder, and a white line appeared in the east where the water and sky met, and the crowd boiled over again.

The white line quickly moved towards us, gradually lengthened, thickened, and crossed the river. The white line is now a white wall, more than two feet high, and the waves are rolling in.

The wave is getting closer and closer, as if ten million white horses are running in unison, and the sound is like a mountain crashing into the ground, as if the earth is being trembled by the tremor. In a flash, the tide rushed to the west, but the aftermath was still coming in, and the wind and waves were still roaring on the river.

After a long time, the Qiantang River has regained its calmness. The first thing you need to do is to look at the bottom of the river and see that the water has risen two feet high.

In the summer vacation, my mom and dad took me to Haining City to see the tide.

At noon, we came to the tide watching place, this time has long been a sea of people, you crowded me. Some like a bulldozer as desperately rushing forward; some people like a short winter melon, no way to see the front of the scenery, had to look east, west to see; some stretch their necks to squeeze to try to make their own see the most clearly. It was hard for us to get to the top of the dam, only to see a thousand shells on the beach, dazzled me.

By 1:55 in the afternoon, silver bands began to appear on the surface of the sea, glistening in the sun. The tide was finally coming in, too, and we cheered. Gradually, the band became thicker and thicker, closer and closer, and then turned into a great big wave in unison, the vast rush over, the sound as the sky is collapsing, the ground is cracking as let me shock. At this point the wave became a monstrous wave, when I blinked quickly, the tide has touched the dam, impact two feet high waves. Enough after half an hour, the tide finally receded, my heart calmed down, look at the beach has long been flooded with seawater.

Haining tide, your charm only this? I hope I can see your majestic and magnificent again. I love you, Haining's tide,

3. fourth grade, fourth unit of the composition, of the book on the picture writing and writing outline

"Crying in the fire"

"Boom! Boom! Boom ......" explosions ringing through the sky, cutting through what should have been a quiet sky, once prosperous Shanghai South Railway Station in an instant ashes, a little boy less than three years old sitting next to the ruins bawling, heart-breaking cries and airplane bombing sounds, interweaving into a sinful symphony.

Why is this child crying? Where are his mom and dad? What is happening here? It gives rise to a series of questions.

Check the historical information: July 7, 1937, the outbreak of the war of resistance against Japan. On August 28th of the same year, Japanese planes bombed the Shanghai South Railway Station, the station footbridge, platforms, railroad tracks were bombed, the ground is full of charred and black mutilated corpses, a lot of bombed women on the square clutching the headless missing limbs of the child, the Japanese planes threw incendiary bombs so that the station and the Zhengjiaqiao burned a fire, a time of smoke, a miserable sight.

A reporter took a photo documenting the evils of the Japanese invaders, the lonely children, full of sores, miserable. I guess, smoke and mirrors, a young mother holding less than three-year-old son to take refuge, the family of three to the train station, to the train station to take refuge in a sea of people, less than three-year-old child holding his beloved dog ready to get on the train. Just at this time, the Japanese invaders of the aircraft savagely arrived, they dropped a bomb crazy, suddenly the Shanghai South Railway Station into a ruin, the train station people were bombed dead dead and wounded, the little boy did not figure out how to do, another bomb thrown down, the father, the mother, rushed to the child's arms, wrapped in the body. His parents were blown up alive, he crawled out of the blood and flesh, crying for his mother, looking for his father, shouting for heaven and earth. He has no family now. Who made him lose his family? Who made him homeless? It's the war! It's the bullets of evil! My heart like a tidal wave of hatred for the war, the war initiator's disgust.

Today, although our Chinese children live in a peaceful environment, but the world is not peaceful, now Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan and other countries are still filled with the smoke of war, the evil bullets are still threatening the delicate "flower of peace", on behalf of the world's peace-loving people to the entire international community to appeal to: in order for mothers to no longer lose their sons, in order for wives to no longer lose their wives. On behalf of peace-loving people all over the world, I appeal to the whole international community: for the sake of mothers not to lose their sons, for the sake of wives not to lose their husbands, and for the sake of people not to lose their loved ones, the whole world should safeguard peace and stop war! Let the flower of peace bloom all over the world!

┏ (^ω^)=

4. Follow the flow of the fourth grade essay

Chinese traditional culture is the world's treasure, how can we let it drown in the tide of the times?

Children hold up Japanese comics in their hands instead of the subtle and meaningful Tang and Song poems; students read magical novels instead of Dream of the Red Chamber and Romance of the Three Kingdoms; young people are keen on Valentine's Day, April Fool's Day, and Christmas, while the flavor of traditional festivals is getting fainter and fainter; and the new generation listens to rock and roll, and RB, while those traditional classics have almost become the empty valley of extinct music.

When you hold the "Poetry", chanting "Guan Ju Ju, in the continent of the river", when you open the "Three Hundred Poems of the Tang Dynasty", read "the light of the moon in front of the bed, suspected to be the frost on the ground", when you read the "Song of Songs", singing lightly "Yang Liu Bank, dawn wind and moon" ...... you will realize the meaning of classical literature.

But it is preferred to turn over the romance novels, looking at one romance story after another. Listening to network music "she's just my sister"...... blind pursuit of trends, looking at the magic novels, can follow the trend do not forget the tree roots deep.

When you see Wang Xizhi's "Lanting Collection Preface" have you ever thought of Jay Chou's "Lanting Collection Preface" and "Qing Hua Porcelain"? These popular classics are also worth pursuing. When you see Zhang Zerui's Qingming Shanghe Tu, have you ever thought of the Qingming Shanghe Tu in the corridor of a high-class hotel? This may be a proof of the fact that we have inherited traditional culture. Because it will not hang a pair of caricatures that are tens of meters long. Catching up with the trend do not forget the classics.

But there are also some survey data that give us chills.

A poll of 3,269 people conducted by the China Youth Daily Social Research Center through Qing Research Consulting and Opinion China shows that 80.8% of people confirmed that there is a crisis in our ability to apply the Chinese language, while another 19.2% disagreed with this statement. In the survey, the respondents confessed that they have a lot of problems in the application of Chinese: insufficient reserve of words, often feeling sub-poor, the use of words, problems with collocation. And so on. I think the reason is that in the "network era", people are not too standardized in the use of Chinese. These facts also tell us that we should not forget the deep roots of the tree when following the trend.

As the children of the Yellow Emperor, we should think about how to realize the integration of traditional culture and modern culture, rather than just follow the trend, the spiritual home can not be lost.

5. Primary school students essay newspaper pictures 4th grade

I am so happy

In my memories of growing up, there are unforgettable, happy, happy ...... most vivid in my mind is the day of my eleventh birthday. I was so happy that day.

On my birthday, I got up early, put on my newly bought clothes and shoes, and bounced to school. Along the way, the birds were chirping on the branches, and they seemed to be saying to me, "Happy Birthday to you!"

When I got to school, my classmate, Xiaohong, gave me the birthday present she had prepared and said to me, "Shi Junjun, happy birthday to you. This is my birthday gift to you." I smiled while receiving the gift and said to Xiao Hong, "Thank you for the gift." When the other classmates saw this, they all delivered their gifts to me one by one and said, "Happy Birthday!" I'm happy to say "Thank you" to them.

At last, the gifts were delivered to me.

Finally, when school was over, I took my classmates back home. Mom brought out the cake that had already been prepared. My classmates sang me a birthday song and laughed happily while I made my eleventh birthday wish in their blessings. ......

"Whew!" I started to cut the cake after blowing out the candles and handed it to my classmates after dividing it. "Ah!" Xiao Ming spread the cream on my face when I wasn't paying attention, and I also smeared the cream on his face ...... "Hahaha ...... "The birthday feast ended in our laughter End, although Nasi's birthday has been a long time past, but the joy of the birthday has long stayed in my heart.

6. (An old photo) of the fourth grade essay essay and pictures

An old photo

By chance, I saw an old photo. It testifies to the real scene on August 28, 1937, when the Japanese invaders bombed the Shanghai Railway Station.

In the photo, we can see that a prosperous scene was reduced to ruins in a burst of bombardment. Only left broken flyovers, twisted railroads, broken houses, brick and tile fragments ...... and a lonely little boy.

This only two or three years old boy why sitting alone in the ruins bawling? His mom and dad? One question came to my mind. Perhaps, his mom and dad were about to take him out by train to escape, and were on their way to find a safe place. Unexpectedly, before boarding the train, the warplanes of the Japanese invaders had already dropped their sinful bombs in a hideous manner. The youngest he has since lost his mother and father, can only sit on the ground helplessly, tearing his heart and lungs crying ......

I think that the reporter will definitely help him after taking pictures. He will surely grow up in the pity of the good people to be a useful person to the society and contribute to the construction of new China. When he grows up, he will also lend a helping hand to the children in need.

However, it occurred to me that in those days, the Japanese invaders trampled on our China far more than one train station. There must have been many other poor children who lost their loved ones in the relentless fire of the Japs and were not helped. Those children probably died before they grew up because no one fed them. There are other children who may survive, but if no one cares for him, they will probably turn into thieves. Because no one gives him money to survive, and no one tells him what to do and what not to do.

Thinking about this, I really hate the Japanese invaders. How many happy homes did they destroy? How many children did they leave without parents, without love and care, only to wander the streets? I look at this picture and think about it and think that our life is much happier than those children. I sympathized with those children who experienced war and smoke, and I thought how wonderful it would be if there was no war in this world. Those children would be able to live a happy life like us.

Home still remember the day of August 28, 1937? On that day, the Japanese invaders bombed the Shanghai South Railway Station. Once again, the word "shame" was written on the faces of the Chinese people, and how many people lost their precious lives as a result? The parents of a three-year-old orphan are two of the unfortunate ones.

That day, the mother took the child to the train station to send food to her husband, her husband, the anti-Japanese guerrillas ambushed in the Shanghai railway station, at any time there may be life-threatening! Halfway through the meal, an uncle came sweating, "A large group of devils has been spotted near the station! Quickly get ready! They're going to blow up the place this time! So, this operation must only succeed, not fail! Everyone must work hard!" Dad fished out his weapon from the hole under the pillar and set off in a hurry! The child, at this point, still didn't know anything, and was happily playing with rocks next to his mom! After a while, from the waiting room there came a burst of gunfire, "Suddenly", a bomb, from a distance, the mother's mind, a blank, in the last moments of her life, threw the child to a soft grass far away. The child was unharmed, but the mother was blown to pieces and her body was left intact! The child sat dumbfounded by the ruins, but no longer see his mother, in front of his eyes, only the blazing fire, and thick smoke, the child was dumbfounded! He "flopped", sat on the ground, heartbreakingly crying, shouting: "Dad! Mom!"

He was taken in by an old lady, and gradually grew up to become a little Bailu, to avenge his parents.

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7. Fourth grade language book exercise four look at the picture writing essay, use the pictograms

The summer sky is really changeable, just now is still a clear sky, in the twinkling of an eye has been a cloudy, dark and pressurized piece.

With the arrival of lightning, the sound of thunder also gradually spread, whenever the lightning passes, always hear the sound of thunder from afar -------

Rumble, rumble -----------

First heard it make a low, dull sound, gradually, gradually 。。。。。。 From far and near it became loud. It was so loud that it sounded like a thousand chivalrous men roaring in the sky, and like a thousand drunken poets chanting in the clouds, and it seemed that the emperor of the heavens was losing his temper and was shouting at the earth! The world was filled with the "shouts of the Heavenly Emperor", which were so loud and fearful that they came intermittently from all directions.

Thunder, although not as crisp as the sound of rain, but it has its own dance partner, that is ------- lightning. Although the lightning dance is more rude, unlike the dancers jumped as beautiful. However, it is worth mentioning that this is nature's dance, and we have to feel marveled.

Immediately after that, the rainstorm followed, and the thunderstorm -

The rumbling, clattering ...... sound was extremely good.

It was like musicians from nature were playing a heavy metal-like symphony. It is as if the emperor of the sky is crying sadly, but also from time to time came the roar of pain. At this time, the lightning danced more joyfully and better. This is really a free music event, a heavenly music from nature.

At some point, the thunderstorm quietly stopped. The lightning is also tired, no longer dance, a concert so ended. Only the intermittent sound of a car's crisp horn could be heard on the highway -

flute - flute - flute ......

as if it was the afterglow of this concert!

8. Essay on Harvest Picture for 4th Grade Composition Book

Rice ears, a symbol of harvest Cutting rice is a farm work for our parents and an experience for us.

As soon as autumn arrives, the rice ears dance in their mother's embrace, as if to say: "Look, how beautiful I am! Wearing golden clothes, like a little princess." Said, and dance with the autumn wind.

"It is harvested, it is harvested ......" rice ears keep calling people to work. People again seem to understand their intentions, hoofing it to the edge of the field to "cha-cha-cha-cha, cha-cha-cha-cha!" A pleasant song that drives us to hurry up.

Mom and Dad and I were on the same page, but as the years passed, the distance between us grew. My confidence also faded, but as soon as I thought of the maxim: A sword cannot be sharpened until it is sharpened, and a man cannot learn until he understands, my confidence was immediately satisfied.

I implemented a program of observe first, act later. I walked up to my mom and watched carefully.

I saw my mom bending over, holding the scythe in one hand and the ears of rice in the other, moving forward "chu-chu-chu-chu-chu-chu-chu-chu-chu-chu-chu-chu-chu-chu-chu-chu-chu". The beads of sweat on her forehead were like broken beads, dripping down constantly.

Hey, in the end, it was only after I learned a lot that I realized the secret. I did it myself.

I gripped the sickle in one hand, put on gloves in the other, twisted my waist, and bent down to cut the rice.

Oops, my hand hurts! Take down the gloves to see, calluses on the palm, I huffed and puffed, "I quit!" I said, "I'm not going to do it!" said "snap" and sat on the ridge.

I sat on the ridge and stared into the distance, I saw the diffuse. Rice ears, a symbol of the harvest cut rice, for our parents is a kind of farm work, for us is an experience.

As soon as autumn arrives, the rice ears will dance in the mother's embrace, as if to say: "Look, I'm beautiful! Wearing golden clothes, like a little princess." Said, and dance with the autumn wind.

"It is time to harvest, it is time to harvest ......" rice ears keep calling people to work. People again seem to understand their intentions, hoofing it to the edge of the field to "cha-cha-cha-cha, cha-cha-cha-cha!" A pleasant song that drives us to hurry up.

Mom and Dad and I were on the same page, but as the years passed, the distance between us grew. My confidence also faded, but as soon as I thought of the maxim: A sword cannot be sharpened until it is sharpened, and a man cannot learn until he understands, my confidence was immediately satisfied.

I implemented a program of observe first, act later. I walked up to my mom and watched carefully. The beads of sweat on her forehead were like broken beads, dripping down constantly.

Hey, in the end, it was only after I learned a lot that I realized the secret. I did it myself.

I gripped the sickle in one hand, put on gloves in the other, twisted my waist, and bent down to cut the rice.

Oops, my hand hurts! Take down the gloves to see, calluses on the palm, I huffed and puffed, "I quit!" I said, "I'm not going to do it!" said "snap" and sat on the ridge.

I sat on the ridge and stared into the distance, I saw a golden hills, heavy rice ears like a group of children, gathered together to open a birthday party; and like the waves in the sea. Ah, the ears of rice, you have the characteristics of gold, I am proud of you.