Composition description aftertaste 600 words 1
Open the picture scroll of memory, the little girl in the picture scroll is me. I smiled, I watched, I ate in the picture scroll, and I smiled.
I never liked those delicious foods when I was a child. Those things have no taste. Next to Grandpa's old house, there is a tall pear tree, which is full of fruits every summer. The pears on the tree are big and round. Standing on the slate next to the old house, dragging branches, you can almost pick one or two. This pear doesn't need washing or wiping. Take it off and eat it. Because that pear tree is carefully cared for by grandpa, and it never uses pesticides and fertilizers, but uses natural organic fertilizers, so it grows particularly well.
I remember when I was in junior high school, the heavy pressure of study made me breathless. Every day, my schoolbag contains all kinds of review materials and test papers. Grandpa goes home every week and always goes to the pear tree to pick some fruits. The coolness of pears instantly took away my boredom; The sweetness and sourness of pears make me feel that those pressures are nothing in an instant.
The second day after the end of Xiaoshengchu is the rehearsal of the county celebration. The remedial class and the county celebration made me so busy that I couldn't even eat. The hot weather and loss of appetite make me very uncomfortable. At this time, I will secretly take a few pears, and I will take three or four if I don't take much. When I rest, I will share them with my friends.
The coolness of pears takes away the heat; The sweetness and sourness of pears increased my energy and brought a smile to my face.
After the rehearsal of the county celebration, my mother and sister and I went to Shandong. I brought some pears before I went out. On buses and trains, we not only have those snacks, but also have such delicious fruits, which are really comfortable. When we arrived in Shandong, we took out the remaining pears and shared them with our relatives and friends in Shandong. They all praised pears.
Close the picture scroll of memory, and I will put it away. I want to protect this picture scroll. This is my memory.
When I think of those pears, my mouth seems to be full of sweet and sour taste. ...
Composition describing aftertaste 600 words 2
The drizzle fell on my umbrella silently, and the whole alley became foggy. I walked on the bluestone road in the alley, and the breeze passing through the alley was mixed with a touch of rose fragrance, which was memorable. I looked up and saw a red rose hanging on the stone wall, burning and blooming in the light rain.
Maybe the owner of the rose forgot to take it home, or maybe the owner wanted to share this rose with everyone. I think so.
A noise broke the silence in the alley. I looked back and saw the middle-aged man who passed me slip on the bluestone road. He sat up carefully and put his hands on the ground. He may have hurt himself. He let out a cry and struggled to stand up, but his trembling legs made him unable to stand.
Several passing aunts noticed him and quickly picked him up. Seeing him bending down to pick up something, we found a basket of moon cakes scattered around him. Everyone squatted down to help him pick up the moon cakes, and I went to help. I sorted the moon cakes and put them back in the basket. While tidying up, I said, "fortunately, there are not many broken moon cakes, but the packaging bag is a little wet." Just dry it. " Several aunts around him began to comfort him in a low voice again.
The man still frowned and his eyes flashed with helplessness. It turned out that he was going to send these moon cakes to a small supermarket not far away. The voice of comfort gradually stopped, and the air was filled with an imperceptible loss. I don't know who shouted, "It's almost a holiday anyway. We share these moon cakes and buy them. " Aunts are busy again. One person bought two Jin, and I also bought a few, seasoned with rose bean paste. The moon cakes will be sold out soon. The middle-aged man bowed to us and left. The crowd around me also dispersed. Looking at the man's stumbling background, I found that this man has leg disease.
I took a bite of the moon cake in my hand and the sweetness got into my heart. The roses on the wall seem to be more fragrant, and there is a warm kindness in the faint fragrance, which left me with endless aftertaste.
Broken moon cakes, perfect people's hearts. The fragrance of roses that day, the moon cakes that day, the warmth and kindness that day, let me remember it vividly.
Composition describing aftertaste 600 words 3
Time is like running water, once it flows away, it will never come back. In a blink of an eye, six years have passed, and the tree next to the only way to school has grown tall, and the children who pass by every day have grown up.
Remember that day.
I hold my mother's hand and carry my new schoolbag. I was a little nervous in excitement, and I entered primary school for the first time. When I came to the classroom with bright windows, the teacher's amiable smile and the innocent faces of my classmates made me look forward to the future.
We graduated from the solstice this summer.
Reminiscent of primary school life, the corners of the mouth will still rise involuntarily, and there are always faces that are no longer familiar. The boys ran out of the classroom as soon as the bell rang. They like to sweat on the playground, and quiet girls like to read and chat in the classroom. Children's Day is coming, and the school will hold an art festival. Talented students are eager to show their talents in the art festival, and those who are arranged to perform are carefully rehearsed. When the class began, everyone immediately calmed down, thought carefully about every question of the teacher and listened carefully to every word the teacher said. In self-study class, everyone is trying to write. The final exam is coming, so everyone should review wholeheartedly, listen carefully and try to get good grades in the exam.
Maybe physical education class was injured in class and would be taken to the infirmary by his classmates immediately. Maybe if you do well in the recitation contest in class, you will get applause from your classmates. When you encounter a difficult problem, there will be helpful classmates to answer it for you. ...
So day after day, year after year, six years have passed.
I will always remember this summer solstice, this school and 2 190 days, the best time and the best of us.
Recalling primary school life, there are laughter, sadness, excitement and disappointment. Thousands of emotions are intertwined and become an eternal song.
Composition describing aftertaste 600 words 4
What kind of experience is aftertaste? I don't know, I don't know, but I was thinking of a scrambled egg with tomatoes. Yes, a plate of scrambled eggs with tomatoes was fried by my brother on my birthday. ...
My younger brother is three years younger than me, and he is a sixth-grade pupil. When I was a child, I really envied watching my cousins have their own brothers and sisters. In the dark, I told my mother with expectation that she would give me a brother or sister as soon as possible and let me show off.
When I was still young, I regarded my brother as an enviable tool. When I grew up, I thought it was a good thing to have a younger brother. Once upon a time, all kinds of doting were like passing clouds. My family turned all their eyes to my younger brother, and my existence became unremarkable at all. I watched everyone busy for my brother, and I secretly scolded myself at that time. Why do you have to expect a younger brother? Great!
When I was older, my brother went to kindergarten and I went to primary school. What my brother and I staged was not the usual brother-sister drama in TV series, but a small quarrel for two days and a big quarrel for three days. Noisy about eating snacks and watching TV. My brother was a cry baby when he was a child, and he cried all the time when something happened. At this time, I had to give in easily. At that time, I was thinking that if I had known I would give him half of everything, I shouldn't have been looking forward to having a younger brother.
Now sitting at the dinner table watching my brother's scrambled eggs with tomatoes, I think of the overlap between the former crying baby and the present little man, which makes me know him again-my brother.
"Mom, this sister loves to eat ..." "Sister likes this color best." "This is for my sister!" "My sister is the ugliest!" "I will never protect my sister when I grow up." The immature voice in my ear keeps ringing. This is my brother!
In the past 15 years, the best gift from God has already arrived. He cried with me, laughed with me, gave me sorrow, gave me joy, and always accompanied me to grow up. Aftertaste is the experience of re-understanding. Even if I never leave your life for a second, hello, my dear brother.
Composition describing aftertaste 600 words 5
My grandmother often tells us a sentence: Bitter first, then sweet. She believes that only by suffering first, can she finally eat sweet.
When I was a child, I always saw every family drying radishes at my grandmother's house, and finally they all became dried radishes. The conditions at home are not very good, except that dried radish has become an important food in our lives.
I still remember how my grandmother cooked dried radish. She has been wearing a headscarf and her face is dark. She looks like a hardworking rural woman. She moved large pieces of dried radish around by herself. The air echoed with the peculiar smell of dried radish. I like the smell of grass. If I smell it carefully, I will smell a light salty taste, which is not very strong, so it is not salty to eat. Sometimes I dip it in soy sauce when I eat it, but I just like the most primitive taste and always feel simple but unique.
Every New Year, dried radish, which usually eats porridge, finally has meat to eat. Delicious meat is my favorite when I was a child. At this time, dried radish showed its charm in the pot, and ordinary dried radish became the children's favorite, because it was stained with meat, which was the favorite meat at that time. Strangely, I have forgotten the taste of meat now, but all I miss is dried radish. Perhaps, sometimes what people care about is not the taste, but a feeling.
A few years later, we moved to a foreign land and lived a happy life, but my grandmother refused to move. She said that she was reluctant to leave here, and we were going back to grandma's house for the Spring Festival. Every time I go back, the trunk of the car is full of stuff by my grandmother. What remains unchanged are several bags of dried radishes, which are heavily placed in the carriage, steadily, firmly and constantly ... The road that the car passes through is the road connecting home and love.
When I was three years old, I liked to follow my grandmother and watch her make dried radish.
I like meat at the age of six, and I don't like dried radish anymore.
When I was nine years old, I began to miss that bag of dried radish again.
Now I know grandma's love, unpretentious, just like that bag of dried radish, firmly placed in the carriage, just like grandma's feelings for me.
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