I love rain. Spring rain, autumn rain, especially the rainy summer, from time to time dark clouds rolling, lightning, thunder, wind and hurricane, so powerful, so shocked heaven and earth, this feeling and straight is unspeakable, incomparable.
In fact, the most beautiful is the spring rain. The soft breeze with a drizzle, willow branches and leaves hazy smoke, full of infinite poetry. The rain is like a graceful maiden, gently dancing with a soft waist, flicking your black hair, kissing your cheeks. It is so gentle and soft, however, still seems to lack that kind of fervor, unrestrained passion, that kind of shocked the world, defending the spirit of the spirit of the spirit. Spring rain is as expensive as oil, it moisturizes everything on the earth, like a warm, peaceful mother, calm mind will not surge out of the frenzy of passion.
Autumn rain always gives people a coolness is the kind of killing everything bleak. Seems to be the passion after the surge and should be calm, perhaps after the rest of the labor tired, is the accumulation of power to re-expression of the period. This has a kind of hope, a kind of passionate expectations.
I long for the summer rain. Summer days like a child's face, say change. The wind and rain, lightning and thunder, heavy rain poured like pouring, the whole world a dark. Trees swaying in the wind, everything in the rainstorm confused ...... strongly vent later, the sky will always swept over a beautiful, colorful rainbow, just like life's brightest spots.
I like to run wild in the storm. Let the huge raindrops impact on the body, wash the cheeks, soak every pore of the body, let the rain in the body into a river flowing around, let the thirsty skin greedily feel the intensity of the raindrops. Stretching out his arms to the fullest, facing the wind, rain, ground out into the heart and lungs of the cry. At this time, the mood is so excited, so rushing, is completely dissolved into the madness of the storm! Standing in the rain, proudly looking around the field, passionate to the extreme, it seems that the world is the only me!
Spring rain is gentle, autumn rain, summer rain, summer rain, life is like rain.
Reading "The Morning Flower and the Evening Gleanings" feeling
I like the Chinese writers, in addition to Zhu Ziqing Sanmao, is Mr. Lu Xun. This book was published when the proposed name is "old things", I think Mr. Lu Xun think the title is too blunt, it was changed to "pick up the flowers", in this book, of course, there is Mr. Lu Xun's usual irony and pungency, but more, it is a kind of old people remembering the past when the warmth of the pulse.
The ten stories in the book, the one that impressed me the most is "Mr. Fujino", a story that, at that time, China was indeed a weak country in the heart of neighboring Japan, but when I read the passage in "Mr. Fujino", I was heartbroken for no reason -- "China is a weak country. So Chinese people are naturally imbeciles ......" reminds me of Mr. Yu Dafu's "Sinking", the boy who stayed in Japan and silently called out in his heart, "O motherland, why don't you get strong quickly? The young man who stayed in Japan. This kind of countryman, who wants his country to be strong but does not work for it, but only prays helplessly, makes people pity him. But those who watch their compatriots being brutally murdered in the movie, and still cheer with the Japanese, that kind of bone-deep insensitivity is not only pitiful, but also, hateful!
But the Japanese, not all of them do not know the meaning of the word "respect", the author of this more in this description, is Mr. Fujino's rigorous teaching style, sincere concern for the author, and, for China, for the "people" of the love. love for China and for "human beings". Between the lines of the work, the author is full of praise and concern for the teacher.
Mr. Fujino's patient counseling of Lu Xun is a wish to introduce Japan's exquisite medical technology into China, to treat the physical illnesses of the Chinese people (in fact, Mr. Lu Xun's purpose of staying in Japan to study medicine is also the same), where Mr. Fujino restores the art of medicine to its original nature - for the sake of all people's health and learning medicine, not for his own personal health. Mr. Fujimino's goal is to restore the art of medicine to its true nature - to study medicine for the health of all people, not for his own personal gain, which is very respectable!
At the end of the article, Mr. Lu Xun wrote that he was still being spurred on by Mr. Fujino's shadow to keep "writing words that are detestable to the 'righteous'", which once again expresses the author's nostalgia and admiration for Mr. Fujino.
Secondly, the Twenty-four Pictures of Filial Piety in Asahi Yushu has also left a deep imprint on my heart.
The Twenty-Four Pictures of Filial Piety, which is supposed to cultivate filial piety in children, has left a terrible shadow in the children's hearts, making them feel that "their white-haired grandmothers are the ones who are not on the same side as me"! The feudal rituals have poisoned the youth, how deep it is!
The Twenty-Four Filial Piety Pictures, and the Kite, actually expresses much the same thing, which can be said to be the lack of the old Chinese education system, but this is not China's weaknesses!
Mr. Lu Xun, is our "backbone of the nation", with the pen as a gun, word for word, this book, "The Morning Flower and the Evening Gleanings", although it is a collection of reminiscent essays, but it does not change its style, for the works pointed out in the old China's shortcomings, I have seen it is still shocked, one side of the lucky that he was born in the motherland in the era of prosperity, and one side of the determination, to do their best! I'm glad I was born in a time when my country was rich and strong, and I'm determined to do my best not to let the tragedy happen again.
In the past, our great motherland, there are too many humiliating history, and now, in the motherland prosperous and strong today, as the future pillars of our country, how can we not for China to work hard? I was surprised to see my own shadow, so thin, so firm shadow from "The Morning Flower and the Evening Gleanings"!
Mr. Lu Xun, China is rising!
Small bookstore
Every time I go home and pass by that bookstore, I stop to take a copy of the newspaper Jingbao or a copy of Youth Digest with me, pay for it, and then give the owner a gentle smile and then leave in a hurry.
The bookstore is very small, and there are not many books, so it's rare for someone to stop and look at it. In the past, I did not like such a small bookstall, because many fashionable magazines are not, only a few very popular books, I can see that the owner of the stall is not very good at it, and not young. Indeed, the book seller is an old man, skinny and small, the bent waist makes him look like and capital "C" from afar. Whenever someone comes to the front of the stall, the old man will always nod, heap out a face of smile, this time he is more like a shrimp, that smile, probably is also a way to make a living, I think.
I was rushing home, and suddenly remembered that today's "Youth Digest" should come out, but just out of the door when I forgot to buy. I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to do that! It's a bit of a bummer, otherwise I could have enjoyed my spiritual food tonight! Suddenly, an advertisement glanced in front of my eyes, oh, it's an advertisement for Youth Digest, hanging in front of that small bookstall. Heh, I didn't realize that he also sells Young People's Digest here! Stopped the car, I walked to the front of the stall, there is a new "Youth Digest" put, but a **** only three books, no wonder, business is not good, into too much to sell. Thinking so, just casually pick up a book to turn up - this is my habit, before buying the book to turn the book roughly, to understand the general content, and then go back to read slowly, this is a mood.
"Old man, is there any copy of Comic Book Friends?" Next to it came a well-dressed beauty, asked in a whiny voice.
"Ah? What? The "Manga Friends"?" The stall owner didn't hear clearly and thought he was buying a kind of food magazine.
"What ah, who wants to buy such a dirt book! Really! What a crappy stall, not even a copy of 'Dining Friends'! Cut!" The beauty twisted her willow waist and walked away with disdain.
The old man was still wondering what happened, how this young girl said to go away, I couldn't bear it, and told him, "She wants the Comic Book Friends, a book for young girls to read."
"Oh, that's what I heard wrong ah, then this "Comic Friends" is not good ah? How many people read it?" The stall owner finally understood.
Heh, looks like he wants to start selling the book. Before I could say anything, someone from the back called out to him, "Old man, let's eat!" The stall owner's wife - an equally elderly woman - came carrying a lunchbox.
"Oh, oh, good! Hehehe ......" The stall owner had a childlike smile on his face, rubbed his hands together, and took the lunchbox. The lunch box is very old, already can not defend the original color to, but also clean. The old man ate quite well, the old woman looked at the stall.
"Daughter good right?" The old man asked as he ate.
"Oh, not bad, not noisy today, good behavior! This green vegetables or she and I wash together." The old woman replied.
I couldn't help but wonder, could it be that the two of them are so old and have a daughter who is not yet an adult?
"Girl, this Youth Digest is nice, right?" The old woman asked me.
"Oh, not bad, full of suitable for young people to read." I was still flipping through it.
"Alas, next time, also bring a book back to let our daughter take a look." The old woman said.
"Why, is your daughter about the same age as me?" I saw her say, so I asked in passing.
"My daughter, alas, can be older than you ah, this year are 36 la!" The old woman sighed, looked up at me full of doubts, "This child's life is bitter ah, born with a high fever, the results were sent to the hospital too late, no timely treatment, fell into a lifelong root of the disease, so big, but also like a child, noisy ......" It turned out that their family has a mentally retarded daughter, "but this child is not noisy when also very obedient, but unfortunately, people do not allow to go to school, I had to teach her to read a few words when she is good ...... "A mention of children, the old woman words quite a lot, the "...... just count on this bookstall can earn a few money, to help her save a few more, when we are old, she can still live ......" Unconsciously, the hands have long stopped turning the pages of the book, and began to listen carefully to the The old woman's words, "Old woman, still nagging it, finished eating, quickly go back to take care of the daughter." The stall owner had already finished eating, and organized his lunch box and handed it to the old woman.
"Oh, good, I'm off ah! Take care of yourself, it's hot ......" The old woman hurried back again.
I handed the money for the book to the stall owner, and he took it, "Hey, this wife, just love to nag." The stall owner muttered alone, like he was talking to himself, and like he was talking to me, but there was satisfaction written on his face, what was he satisfied with? Is it the old companion's concern, or a book's profit, or a morning of his daughter's good behavior ...... However, I know that he is satisfied, a kind of satisfaction that is rarely seen nowadays, calm and happy.
Picked up the book, got in the car, the mood became so strange, seems to be relaxed, also seems to be heavy, in the hands of the Youth Digest seems to be a little different from the usual buy, perhaps, today, I got more, more than this book, I think.
From then on, I had this habit of buying a book and leaving a smile on my face when I went home.
White hair
When I was a child, my teacher taught us to write essays, and whenever it was about our mothers, my teacher always taught us to use our mothers' white hair as a topic, saying things like "that's a trace of age" and "white hair is a symbol of our mothers' hard work", "A mother's gray hair is a witness to her child's growth". At that time, I was still young and did not understand what these words meant, and I thought that my mother was very pretty at that time, and she did not have a single gray hair. The child's heart is always innocent in order to essay can be delivered, I also do not hesitate to turn over the model essay, copy a sentence or two similar metaphor. When I got home, I complained to my mom, "Mom, why don't you grow gray hair, so that I can't write anything for my essay, and I have to lie." Mom shook her head and said, "It's not that you don't grow gray hair, but it's not time. In the future, when I grow a full head of gray hair, you'll think I'm ugly." Although my mother said so, but at that time I do not believe that the beautiful mother is going to grow gray hair.
In my memory, my mother had a head of black hair, a tall figure, and no sign of obesity, unlike some aunts, who were as fat as a meat dumpling.
Ten years later, time is really the best detergent, it actually washed away the black color of the mother's hair little by little, the mother's forehead of a stroke of hair has become white, the back of the head also appeared a few silver threads. But the gray hair did not really make me feel that my mother was getting old. The first time I saw her was when she asked me to play badminton with her.
Badminton is my specialty, and my first badminton teacher was my mother. In the first grade of elementary school, she played badminton with me, from serving to receiving, and that's how my skills were trained in the game with my mother. According to her, she was also good at badminton when she was young. However, since I went to junior high school, I did not play badminton with my mother anymore. On the one hand, she was busy with her business; on the other hand, I also felt that I had grown up and could not be so childish and pestered to play games with my mother.
However, that day, my mother asked me to play badminton with her. I didn't even think about it and agreed. Maybe, the real grown-ups will really miss it, and maybe, the university long time away from home makes me especially cherish every time with my family ****.
The badminton ball flew back and forth between my mother and me, and the ball landed again and again on my mother's side. I watched my mother slowly bending down to pick up the ball with a bit of effort. I was thinking that once upon a time, it was me who played the role of picking up the ball. I tried my best to keep the ball within my mother's reach, so I hit it a little unnaturally, but my heart was happy, and I felt that I had grown up and was able to take care of my mother, even if it was just a small thing like this. I don't know if my mother was in the same mood when she played with me.
After ten minutes of playing, my mother was already sweating, and her middle-aged body was slightly fat, and her hands were naturally not flexible, so I asked her to take a break. The mother wiped the sweat with the back of her hand, and ruffled the hair hanging down in front of her forehead.
At that moment, I really noticed my mother's gray hair. The white hair is hidden in the mother's black hair, not carefully actually can not be seen. I was not able to think of any of the metaphors that my teacher taught me, but only of the fact that my mother was old.
After that, I didn't intentionally use my eyes to see my mother's gray hair, because those gray hairs not only played a role in my vision, but also played a role in my psychology. My mother is old, the youthful beauty of the past no longer exists, how would a person's state of mind be when she is old? Perhaps she longed to return to her youth, and she used nostalgia to recall her younger years; perhaps she lamented the relentlessness of the years. These are all my guesses based on my mother's expression when she looked through the old photos. The only thing I know for sure is that from now on, my hands are my mother's dependence, just as I relied on my mother when I was a child.
My mother's gray hairs are a rope that connects my heart to her mother's on this side, and I am on that side, letting me hang on to her; my mother's gray hairs are a knitting needle that weaves a net of gratitude, with my mother on the outside, and me on the inside; my mother's gray hairs are a trail, with my mother in front of her as she walks in front of the years, and me behind her.
I can't say that I will be able to repay my mother and make her gray hair worthwhile, I can only work silently to make my hands strong and powerful, and be able to be a solid dependence on my mother.
Everything, not for anything else, just for, mother's gray hair, is my attachment in this life.
The ants, the world
Waking up, life is still the same, day after day of boring life so that my life in the unconscious passed away. The end of various challenges is another beginning.
I walked in a sea of people, suddenly felt a burst of real loss. I have been living for so many years, what have I gotten, what have I lost? I'm not sure what I'm talking about, but I'm not sure what I'm talking about, and I'm not sure what I'm talking about. Hope again and again failed, failure comes one after another,
I can not help but to life gradually disappointed. Some people are alive, he is dead; some people are dead, he is still alive - although I live, but as if dead is no different.
I feel as if I were an ant, lost and helpless in the rush of people passing by, oppressed by life, filled with prejudice and selfishness in my life. I silently and with difficulty tried to crawl forward, the ground was wet, and so was my heart, oh! That's tears, that's blood, hanging in my heart as a line, long, long ......
It was raining, and people were scrambling to find a place to hide from the rain. I smiled, maybe now was the only time I could enjoy a brief moment of clarity. The rain got heavier and heavier, and the raindrops hit the ground and turned into splashes of water that kept swirling around, confusing me. I hold up a leaf to hold up a green world for myself. As the rain continued to fall, the wind roared by, snatching away the only leaf I had, perhaps the leaf was just going to follow the wind to seek its own dream. I shook my head helplessly, and was about to leave when a drop of rain came down and trapped me. I struggled desperately, was this the end of my life? No!
Suddenly, I calmed down as if in thought. I had been searching for a piece of the world just for myself, and now didn't I have a paradise of my own? Why do I need to live in peace?
The rain is slowly decreasing, the wind has stopped, the crowd of people avoiding the rain is dispersing one after another, and the light clouds raise a bright rainbow. I had heard that the sun has countless hands, each hand has left a thousand strange fingerprints, each hand has fed a life. The sun's hands lifted toward me, the water droplets grew smaller, and I glared angrily at the sun, regardless of the blinding sunlight - it had snatched away the only happy place I had ever known.
It was dark again, perhaps my accusation had succeeded. Mine, however, was suddenly immobile, and a chill surrounded me as blackness plunged before my eyes. I know, my life should end. But I didn't have a single regret, on the contrary, I was very comfortable. Finally, I sank into the cold.
"Look how stupid this ant is, it would rather drown alive than run away."
"Haha ......"
These were the last words left in my ears.
I am stupid, I am small, can't the big world accommodate a small me?
Suddenly, I realized that my life is as insignificant as dust to the world. But it is precisely because of the millions of insignificant lives like me that the world is so colorful.
The end of one life is the beginning of another.
Goodbye, my world, waiting for my return ......
Rain
Rain is soft, is the world's lightest thing, knocking not the heavy reinforced concrete buildings. Unlike the tiled huts, the raindrops tinkle on them and immediately make a pleasant sound. Those who are in the hut are also blessed to be close to nature in the rain. When the rain is fast and furious, the sound is generous and exciting. The rain slows down, the sound is also weak, gently into your heart, they play dutifully, listening to the rain in the heart of the people will diffuse endless feelings.
People like to sit quietly and listen to the rain when their hearts are full of nostalgia and sadness. The old man's ambition is to "listen to the wind and rain in the dead of night, the iron horse icy river into the dream"; sentimental poets have a "small building to listen to the spring rain, the deep alleys sell apricot blossoms in the morning" of the reverie. The rain has become a messenger for people to modify their feelings and send their wishes.
There is a word: "Young people listen to the rain song upstairs, red candle dim tent. In his prime, listening to the rain in the guest boat, the river is broad and low clouds, broken geese calling the west wind. Life situation is different, listening to the rain feelings are also different. However, listening to the rain is to listen to the soul of the conversation, listen to the true feelings of the diarrhea, listen to the murmuring flow of years. The sound of rain, in addition to the reverberations of the years, there is the old days are no longer deplorable and want to talk about the melancholy. It seems that only in the light sound of rain in this tile house, the mind can breathe, life can continue.
The sound of rain is still ringing, like my real heartbeat ......
Morning
Do you imagine such a wonderful scene: early in the morning, a few rays of sunlight outside the window through the glass, sprinkled with the whole room, everything is filled with vivid vitality: the trees are verdant, the birds also sing a melodious On the green lawn, there are a few old people practicing tai chi in the morning. The air is incomparably fresh, so that the mood becomes very comfortable, everything is in the morning happy sublimation flow, so that the whole body and mind are bathed in the light of the morning.
Morning, under the influence of the specific time it represents, has gradually become a symbol of youth and light in people's minds.
Youth, not as bright and bright as the morning? As we all know, youth is full of passion, is as hot as fire, is bathed in the morning sun. When you see a group of energetic young people in the song and dance of their own years, do you think they are like the morning sun is generally eye-catching and dazzling, exuding a youthful morning general good breath? That's right, the heart of youth is "morning" color, the appearance of youth is starry "morning", the disposition of youth is hot "morning", the whole youth is a "morning". The whole youth is a "morning".
Brightness, likewise, is like the morning. Morning is the most significant is the light, and the light of the biggest feature is to symbolize the beginning of the day, these two are indispensable. Morning, as if one feels the power of the newborn light as soon as one hears it, is the source of hope after a long night. If the night is the waiting before the blooming of the light, then the morning is the light and heat bursting out from the moment after this countless waiting, illuminating and warming the whole world.
Morning is not only that special time, but also a kind of power, a kind of call, a kind of youthful beat, a kind of light gathering!
Deep Autumn Essay
This year's autumn seems to be extraordinarily cold, early in the morning on the way to school, pedestrians already have a colorful neck, the length of the scarf, I don't know if it's a fashion in the evils of it, or can not resist the cooler autumn winds it?
Autumn in the mother's voice in the sound of the addition of a coat in the voice of the command from me closer and closer, it seems that in the moment I did not blink, he has been like a naughty child, naughty pounced into my arms.
The summer sun turned its face away from me, the campus of the sycamore fluttering beautiful light golden leaves, the sky is very high, very blue, quietly listen to the autumn bugs in the murmur, so beautiful a picture of late autumn!
The mood of autumn, is quiet, and even some sadness. Fragile yellow, full of face full of eyes pounced over, reflecting the lonely silhouette, walking in a flurry of falling leaves, late fall, seems destined to be the season of longing, let the thoughts with the piece of fluttering autumn leaves, along with the flow of clouds, memories of the lost sweet time, thinking of distant long unseen friends, can not help but be a little frustrated and lost, but the cloudy and windy good weather and people can not be allowed to let their moods go down, and thus The fall makes people melancholy, but also stops at melancholy. In the fall gloomy look is very common, the autumn windy streets, the face of the girls more a sentimental expression, but as if more dignified.
The winds of autumn are laced with the scent of the sun baking and then cooling, and that is a smell that can make people smile. As I watched the sky become higher and higher, the blue color deepened. Every late fall day, let yourself mature, strong, pure, simple and extraordinary.
The air, entangled with the fragrance of the fragrance, the late autumn dusk burning into the intermittent evening sunshine, stained my face, accompanied by the corner of the mouth smile, rippled into my heart.
The night of the early lights, leaning on the window, looking at the brilliant night sky in late autumn, resting his cheeks in reverie, the dewdrops will be affectionate condensation, the moonlight whisked through the window of the street, I breathlessly lowered his head, write this essay, and then quietly enjoy the scenery was elegant, waiting for himself to become a thing in the landscape, perhaps, this is only belongs to the mood of the fall.