Familiar local composition article 1 golden trees with bright colors are the last ray of light missed by the sunset. There is an old man under the ginkgo tree. They are standing in the sun. This is the most moving scenery in my memory.
With the change of my school, I left my familiar hometown and embarked on a long road to study. It will be a long time before I go back to see my grandparents. When I think of them, I will always remember those fragmentary fragments.
"Hey, are you leaving now?" I took bags of fruits and vegetables from my grandmother, but I looked up and fell into those complicated emotions in her eyes. A little shiny, facing the sunset, grandma's messy eyes made my heart tremble. "Well, I have to go to school early tomorrow morning." I nodded helplessly and closed the trunk, which was full of grandma's instructions. Every time I come back, I am under the illusion of moving, just let her follow me. Unlike her, grandpa said, "study hard and be obedient!" " "I waved impatiently, turned and got into the car, but ignored the dim color in his eyes.
The bus is leaving. Familiar scenery over and over again, the high-energy Ligustrum lucidum on the roadside runs backwards, full of flowing green, and it is not easy to spend late autumn here. I turned to lie on my seat and looked back through the window. I saw two figures still standing there, one tall, one short, one fat and one thin, snuggling up to each other, glowing golden in the sun, like two sculptures. They looked this way. I don't know if they saw it. Ginkgo biloba leaves fell from the trees above, fell on their shoulders and were embedded in their white sideburns. I was tired of squatting, so I turned around and sat down. I drove a long way, but I suddenly caught a glimpse in the mirror. The two small black spots were swallowed up by the last sunset glow on the horizon. I only saw the old ginkgo tree, standing there alone. In these countless sunsets, one stop is a thousand years. Grandparents are like the old ginkgo tree, standing in the sunset, watching me leave.
Until finally, the car turned a corner and turned a few blocks. I looked back and saw nothing but those complicated cars coming and going. Suddenly something lurks in my heart, and the great loss of emptiness spreads from my heart. I sigh, that person, that tree, that scenery will always be in my heart.
The years of time turn and turn, and the hands of the years shake and shake. Looking back tens of thousands of times, the happiest thing is that there is such a person watching you silently behind you. They are full of expectation, but also full of disappointment. They can't keep you selfish, because your destination is always far away and doesn't belong to them. So you gradually, with the passage of time, forget the people behind you. When you look back a few years later, they are already white-haired. In this way, I realized that the most beautiful scenery has always been behind me, and I only need to look back once.
Looking everywhere, there are also scenery in the familiar places.
See thousands of scenic spots every day, my room, living room, doors full of advertisements, and high schools full of gunpowder. Although "everything is changing", I not only doubt this sentence, but think that nothing new will appear at all. Instead, I find myself ignoring the important scenery around me in this boring environment.
I walked down the stairs with my schoolbag on my back that day, and had another quarrel with my mother in the morning. I walked to school in a rage. I walked so fast that my homework bag shook with a bang. Later, I started running, and when my shoelaces were opened, I jumped and ran, which attracted the surprised eyes of pedestrians along the way. But I don't care that much, running all the way. I look back from time to time. Then I turned into a small shop, tied my shoelaces and looked at the door. A yellow thing caught my attention. That's my mother's battery car. I quickly hid on the shelf and saw the battery car flying by the door. I'll come out and keep running. I thought it was exciting, like making an action movie. I told my classmates that I could play for two months. I kept running, and everything I saw thousands of times kept retreating. The camphor trees in the roadside flower beds are tall and straight, arranged in two rows, as if they were copied and pasted, as I see every day, as if they were copied and pasted yesterday and today, which is very boring! I looked at my watch and began to gallop again. I wish I were a BMW. I can go straight to school, go ahead, turn, go ahead, turn again ... a white building appears. I gasped, and the battery car whistled in my ear. I don't care. I felt that "hope is in sight" and ran over. I held the door and found those blue and white school uniforms.
"ah!" I shouted and started running to the school gate again, thinking that if I had known, I shouldn't have walked angrily to school alone. I finally came to the school gate that I have seen thousands of times. "hey!" I turned around and found my mother standing at the school gate, under the eyepiece of her helmet. Her face was pale. She said, "I've been following you. How many times have I taken you this way? Are you still turning so big? " She handed me the cup in her hand and said, "How old are you? You will forget the cup." I turned and walked into the school gate, knowing in my heart.
Maybe I have seen my mother following me countless times on my way to school, which is an important scenery I have been ignoring. ...
The third familiar local composition (1)
The famous poet Wang Guozhen once said: "No matter where we are, there is a temptation to us, either beautiful or legendary." People are always fascinated by the distant scenery, but ignore the familiar scenery around them.
When I'm bored, I lie in bed in a daze, always remembering the dribs and drabs of six years ago. There are classmates who have been with me for a long time, teachers who care about me, educate me and accompany me to grow up. I feel extremely attached, lonely and reluctant to attend classes with my classmates who have been together for six years.
Get up, pack your clothes, and unconsciously return to the familiar campus. Looking for the familiar sound of reading, I walked into the teaching building. Groups of energetic primary school students make me seem to have returned to the innocence and happiness of primary school.
Go to the teacher's old office first. The teacher is not here. I asked other teachers and found my dear old class teacher Liu's new classroom. She is burying herself in correcting her homework, frowning and smiling. That familiar action suddenly made me feel as warm as a spring breeze, as sweet as a clear spring, as warm as the sun, and the familiar love from a familiar teacher flooded into my heart without warning. When I knocked at the door, Mr. Liu looked up and saw me. The corners of his mouth rose a big arc, and there seemed to be something in his eyes. He was so happy that he was too moved to speak. Two students came in, with homework in their hands, and suddenly saw the scene of happiness in those six years, as if it were in front of them.
On the playground, the students are playing games and having fun. Their backs remind me of me and my classmates. I am also an athlete. I have sweated and shed tears in this playground. Aunt cleaning is coming. She has been here for many years since I was in grade one. A teacher passed by me, and I habitually called out, "Hello, teacher!" " "It seems to be back in primary school.
This paragraph is about my own familiar campus, each one.
(2)
"Life is not a lack of beauty, but a lack of eyes to find beauty." There are beautiful scenery around us. The campus we are familiar with is the most beautiful scenery.
I still remember six years ago, when we came to this strange campus, everything around us was so curious. Gradually, with my growth, I feel that the campus is so ordinary, just a "big park" with inheritance and teaching buildings. But it was on the day of graduation that I discovered the true beauty of the campus.
Standing at the school gate, looking at everything in the school, I found that everything became strange again. Looking through the iron gate is like looking through the mountain. Looking at the flower bed at the door, those flowers became very bright overnight. Petals dance in the wind like fairies. Why before graduation, they are not ordinary, just flowers that are about to wither. Look at that big tree that enjoys the cool for us. Suddenly, it grew luxuriantly and rustled in the wind. How I want to go back there, sit in the shade and chat with my friends. Go under the pine tree and play "fruits and vegetables" together; Go to fitness equipment and compare with classmates; Then play hide-and-seek together in the carport; Let's "play the rubber band" under the poplar, let's ...
And the familiar teaching building, you can see the "blog post" when you look up; The school rules above the calligraphy building are "write correctly and be upright"; The footprints in the teaching building and the laughter in the classroom seem to have returned to the previous primary school classroom. There, we laughed and cried, but this is no longer our 6 1 class, and it has once again become a safe haven for other schoolmates.
In a trance, I saw the teacher coming to me again. The familiar figure was so warm that I saw us sweating like rain on the playground. And see us holding hands and playing side by side; See us sitting under the tree laughing; See us raise the national flag and sing the national anthem together. When the national anthem rings, our eyes are full of energy and respect. Our eyes slowly rose with the national flag flying over the school. The national anthem is over, all illusions are gone, only me and the flying national flag are left. It's over. I was no longer a real and ignorant pupil that day. I cherish my eyes. Maybe I don't know which day I will lose more beautiful scenery.
"Why do you have to work hard for the distant scenery? You are familiar with the scenery." Beautiful flower beds, familiar playgrounds and the national flag raised in Ran Ran are not exactly the scenery I am looking for. We should observe carefully, and perhaps there will be the most beautiful scenery in the most familiar places.
(3)
Life is like a mass of hemp, only clumsy people can't weave good threads; Smart people are just mechanical repetitive work; The brightest person, with eyes like running water and white lines like snow, is singing a "squeaky" song under her spinning wheel.
The dream is deep, sleepy and colorful.
Breakfast, eager eyes, delicious breakfast.
When I was still wandering in my dream, my father used to jog by the Ming Lake. The vigorous pace clears away the dense milk fog, and the stout figure bumps against the cold current. Presumably, his whole body fat is melting bit by bit.
Go out quietly and come back quietly, and the sound of turning the key seems to be omitted. Wipe the hot sweat from the sideburns with a clean towel, take a simple hot bath, put on a clean white shirt and tie a green apron, just like a tender, green watermelon with a burning heart inside.
Turn on the cold light in the kitchen, then open the freezer and take out the raw eggs and salted ham that have been prepared long ago. Slice the ham, break the eggs and everything is ready. Gently turn the gas valve, there will be a crunchy sound of "pa", and the blue flame will burst out and slowly drop. The outer flame has the highest temperature. He quickly poured in peanut fat, made a squeak, and secretly closed the kitchen door to prevent smoke from escaping.
The scattered eggs are scattered at the bottom of the pan and pulled back by heat. The ham was pasted on both sides of the pot, and it was crisp in a moment. Gently put it on a plate and disperse the excess oil. He took out two pieces of salty bread from the cupboard and liked it very much, although he bought it very cheaply in the promotion plan. Be careful when you are alive.
Put an fried egg and a slice of ham on one piece of bread, and then spread the salad evenly on the other piece of bread. The milk has been heated in hot water. Well, the microwave oven has radiation, and he has given up. Take a sip of warm milk and slowly flow into the cup to avoid ink sticking to the bag.
He crept into their room and patted her gently. "Get up, the meal is ready!" "
Familiar places also have scenery, which is a morning for my father.
(4)
On the solstice of winter, the dim light hits the road, and the bleak cold wind blows on me, which makes me shrink my neck. People hurried home and looked up. The window at home gives off warm light, which warms my heart.
Pushing open the door, the food smelled fragrant and suddenly aroused my craving. My mother came out of the kitchen with a big pot of fried chicken. Stir-fried red and green peppers with chicken looks good. This is a specialty of * * *, and then the soup is poured on white rice, which makes people appetite.
After washing my hands, I couldn't wait to prepare dinner. My parents just smiled at me. I wolfed down a meal, leaving only a pile of bones on the side of the bowl for chicken wings and chicken legs to eat. I knocked on the edge of the bowl and pushed the empty rice bottom to my mother: "I want more rice after eating." Mother put down the half-eaten chicken rack, lovingly touched my head and gave me another bowl of rice. Dad gave me some pieces of chicken, and I hung my head and enjoyed the delicious food wholeheartedly. The night is deep, and the lights of the building are lit up, giving people a warmth of home.
I stroked my chubby belly, burped, and looked at the table while enjoying the food.
I suddenly found a strange phenomenon. In front of us are the bones of chicken legs and wings, in front of my mother are the bones of chicken legs and feet, and in front of my father are all strange bones that I can't name. Looking at my mother still eating a meatless bone, my father is struggling to eat a chicken neck with almost no meat. I never eat it. ...
I understood something, and my eyes suddenly blurred.
Dining table! This is such a familiar place that I have never observed it so carefully for more than ten years. In my eyes, it is just a place to eat, and I know nothing about my father's preferences. For example, every time I eat chicken, it is my duty to eat good parts such as chicken legs and wings, which I take for granted. I never pay attention to my parents' feelings. Every time my mother says she doesn't like chicken legs, she gives them to me. My father always says she can't eat a few pieces. When I think about it, I feel sad. My parents are over forty years old and invite me to a big dinner every birthday, but they never mention it, just once a year. The light hit their heads, shining silver. Years have eroded their faces, but they have not changed their love for me at all. I once laughed at my father's hunched waist and the wrinkles around my mother's eyes. I know they are all old, but they love my heart and will never grow old. .................
Thinking of this, I picked up chopsticks, selected a piece of chicken leg meat from the plate and put it in my mother's bowl. My mother paused, smiled and put it back in my bowl, and I put it back to my father. My father picked up the chicken, saw my persistent and expectant eyes, hesitated and put it in his mouth. The three of us smiled at each other. Although there is no language, we all know each other's thoughts, so happiness is born. In this familiar place, if you pay attention to observation, there will be moving scenery.
(5)
The autumn wind "swish swish", the familiar campus is full of fallen leaves, which have filled my memory for six years, and suddenly jumped into my mind with a piece of past events, letting me find that the familiar place actually has such pleasant scenery.
In early autumn, the first ray of sunshine in the morning shines on the wide playground through the mist. I walked into my alma mater on fallen leaves, walked on a familiar path, looked at the familiar teaching building, playground and library, and gave birth to a feeling I had never felt before ... It was very quiet around, only hearing the sound of the wind. Stepping on the crisp sound of fallen leaves, it seems that every fallen leaf under my feet is full of my memories here and is writing the once warm scenery.
At present, it seems to be playing on the playground again, flashing the pace of struggle and persistence in the sports meeting, and reappearing the tense writing figure in the examination room ... Our shredded paper slowly falls from our hands, just like gray butterflies flying in the air. Reach out and gently touch the newspaper at the back of the classroom. On the slightly mottled wall, photos that have not been replaced are flashing. When tears filled my eyes, I tried to stop the pace of time with my hands, only to find that it had already lost its meaning. This familiar campus has become a landscape of concentrated study.
In those six years, the classrooms and teachers who once made us "hate" are now standing in front of us with smiles. The happiness created in those years is now out of reach. In those years, we laughed together, grieved together, met challenges together, and didn't dislike each other or criticize each other. Nowadays, the closest friends come to visit their alma mater without fighting, only greeting and courtesy. At the foot is a familiar campus, surrounded by familiar classmates, but this scene seems to have become a passer-by and a stranger. It turns out that familiar places need to be contacted with the heart and maintained with feelings. Otherwise, it will become a strange scenery.
In this familiar campus, recalling the past, this scene will always be fixed in my heart. After the precipitation of time, the once familiar place is now more nostalgic and warm, and it has become the most beautiful scenery in my memory. Miss familiar places, familiar people and familiar things ... that is the scenery that will stay in our hearts forever, and it is our exclusive memory.
(6)
Rodin, a famous French painter, said: "Life is not a lack of beauty, but a lack of eyes to find beauty." In life, has our brain erased the clutter of the world? Should we slow down the fast-paced pace and learn to appreciate the different scenery around us that we are used to or even ignore?
In the early spring morning, the sky seems to have just been blown by a hurricane. The clean and clear blue is proudly rendered behind the white clouds, like an ink bottle knocked over by hand, slowly blooming. Walking on the way to school, the warm spring breeze blows, the songs of birds are particularly crisp, and the newly pulled green leaves on the roadside trees are particularly delicate. Because of a special day, everything becomes different, and that is my birthday. While I am happy, I feel a little sorry: today is not the weekend, so I can't invite my classmates to my birthday party, alas. ...
I walked into the campus with mixed feelings. As soon as I entered the classroom, there were all kinds of gifts piled on the table, and I opened my mouth in an instant of surprise. Chubby plush bear, hug it, as if feeling the warmth of friendship. The boxes of exquisite chocolates, eaten one piece, accompanied by the thick and mellow wine, are the strength of friendship given by the students. There is also the little white paper boat with neat seal characters printed on it: "If this white paper boat is my good blessing to you, I hope it can float to your home along the clear stream ..." As I watched it, my sight gradually blurred and tears could not help but come to my eyes.
It turns out that the gifts of my classmates are also a colorful landscape, just as I have never paid so much attention to the' school path' that I have walked thousands of times every day. No matter spring, summer, autumn and winter, it is quiet and depicts the most beautiful scenery.
When I went to Qiu Lai in summer, the sky was as black as the old man's rough skin, and the yellow leaves swept the sky with the bleak autumn wind.
In the casserole on the stove, Chinese medicine is still boiling, and white heat almost covers the whole kitchen. Because of illness, I lay in bed like a dead leaf. By the fire, my mother has been working hard for me for days and nights. "Come on, drink the medicine, and your body will get better slowly." My mother's gentle words seem to have cured my stubborn illness and made me slowly energetic. Mother's kind eyes are mixed with steaming Chinese medicine, which constitutes a mother's landscape painting with bitterness and sweetness.
Familiar places also have scenery, so why go through all the hardships for distant scenery?
(7)
Familiar places also have scenery. Yes, the scenery is not only in those beautiful and rich places of interest, but also around us, in familiar places, just lacking a pair of eyes for discovery.
At first light, I opened my eyes, put on my clothes and shoes, crept to the door and pushed it out carefully. Wow, it's cold! The oncoming gust of wind seemed to dance with the accompaniment of the violin, jumping lightly under the eaves and windows, landing on my face and getting into my nose. It seems to be angry, beating violently in my nostrils and making a sound, "Aho", a sneeze suddenly sounded. I subconsciously huddled up, put my hands on my chest and trembled slightly under the wind.
I quickly stepped back, picked up a coat and put it on my body, pushed open the door and followed the sound. My mother has been busy in the kitchen for a long time, and sweat is running on her cheeks. My mother seemed to feel that I was looking at her and looked up at me. "Good morning, baby." We both laughed in unison. Mom looks haggard when she smiles, but she still can't hide her beauty, which is her unique temperament. Every morning, my mother is the only heroine in the kitchen and the most delicious scenery in my home.
I put on my coat and ran out of the house. For an instant, I was shocked. The house was shrouded in fog, as if it were in a fairy tale world. Looking into the distance, the mountains are more unfathomable under the fog; There are several chirps from time to time. I don't know whose cock is so diligent and so tall. The figure of the rooster is surrounded by fog, and I can only imagine it crowing with its neck upturned from the sound of floating through the fog. I wanted to rack my brains to crack the code of the dense fog, but I suddenly realized in the loud crow of the rooster that the sound is the loudest scenery in the dense fog in the morning, so why bother to explore the truth.
Outside the window, it is the first fog in late autumn. The flowers and trees downstairs are soaked in milky fog, which has become the most beautiful fairy tale in autumn. Indoor, the food is fragrant, and my mother cooked a delicious breakfast for the whole family. This place, this sound and this smell constitute a unique landscape that I will never forget.
"Baby, what are you doing? Grandma's breakfast has just come out of the pot, come and get some to eat. " My neighbor's grandmother called me kindly. "Here, take it, this is your favorite corn and sweet potato." Grandma said with a smile, as she quickly lifted the lid, picked out the beautiful ones and put them in a small basket for me. Grandpa heard grandma's cough, took out a coat and put it on grandma. He looked angry: "It was cold in the morning, so I didn't know to put on more clothes and coughed again." Grandma shyly lowered her head, shook the clothes she had just put on, and looked back at her bald grandfather. They both laughed in unison.
I was deeply moved by the friendship between grandpa and grandma. After so many ups and downs, two people can still live so comfortably, happily, lovingly and carefree.
(8)
Everyone's most familiar place is their home, right? Do you ever know how many times you walked into a warm home from the outside? Do you ever remember how many pieces were on the floor? How many steps are there in the stairs? Why pursue distant scenery? The most beautiful scenery is your familiar home!
After school, I pushed open the door and walked into my familiar home. Dad always puts down the newspaper and looks up. "Come back, good!" "Mom heard the sound of opening the door and came out of the kitchen before putting down the spoon." Wash your hands and come to eat. "Say that finish, and hurried into the kitchen. Grandma came out of the bedroom, took off my schoolbag and patted me on the head. "Tired, son? "This kind of scene seems to be staged every day. These simple and ordinary words, as well as thousands of words, staged scenes of warm scenery in the living room.
I washed my hands and walked into the restaurant. The rice was fragrant. The table is full of food. But there is still a symphony of pots and pans, which I hate and used to think is the noise in the kitchen. The professional and beautiful musician is sprinkling a little "maternal love" into the mouth-watering food. Then, dad came from the living room and grandma came from the study. The whole family was attracted by the beautiful music. They all tasted happiness and shared the joy of the day. At the dinner table, everyone is an actor, and there is a happy scene.
After dinner, I instinctively went into the study and wanted to do my homework, but I saw a tall figure there. Dad is looking through my exercise book and paying attention to my study. I quietly walked over, one big and one small, one old and one young, and I like this chat-style counseling; The dialogue between questions and answers conveys harmony and emotion.
It's late at night, and it's nothing special to enter my world, but for me, it's no less than a beautiful fairyland surrounded by water on three sides and dense flowers and plants. I said to myself over and over again: You may forget how many secrets and happiness belong to you in this small world. You may have forgotten the little box in the corner, which was once full of what you thought was a "treasure". Remember the "secret warehouse" behind the bookcase? I'm afraid those naive ideas and interesting stories you recorded with immature notes are now dusty. Go find it, find the happy scenery, don't forget it, don't let it slip away like this.
Feel with your heart, feel the scenery staged in these familiar places, look for it with your eyes, and find the most beautiful scenery around you?