Prose is a narrative literary genre that expresses the author's true feelings and has a flexible writing style. Below is a collection of prose praising winter for you. You are welcome to refer to it! Prose in Praise of Winter Part 1
In the leisurely winter, I am used to running in the morning mist and walking in the dusk. Compared with the further north of the Yunnan-Guizhou Plateau, Lincang in southwest Yunnan is a place where flowers are always blooming, green mountains are always there, and it is warm and comfortable. It is a good place with spring-like weather all year round. But for the people who have lived on this land for generations, their days are based on the seasons. The pace of reincarnation has passed!
I was born and raised here. In my memory, spring is the season when life awakens, summer is the season when all things flourish, autumn is the season when the earth matures, and winter is the season of leisure... .
When the early wind blows the melodious flute, the autumn colors leave us. The time is sweet and gentle, with the blessings and greetings of the years, with the taste of longing and warmth, the winter in Lincang comes as promised. to. Shuofeng exudes a strong winter charm, restrained, reserved, low-key, quiet and elegant, and leisurely.
The land of Lincang in winter seems like a beauty taking off her makeup. Although the performance has ended, her charm is still there. The early wind slowed down all the rhythms of life, and the green-leaf trees in the evergreen monsoon forest also began to quietly recuperate.
At this moment, the vast green mountains can no longer hide the true nature of the earth, and the mountains and fields are exposed in mottled earth-red and earth-yellow colors. Looking at it, the whole world is like a freehand landscape painting, with thin water, mountains and sky, high sky and far sky. It is a faint sketch, but it has a profound charm.
The stretching mountains seem to have lost weight, revealing their true posture, like the graceful silhouette of a thin beauty turning around, tingling, gradually getting further away, making people fall into a graceful reverie. I guess the birds, snakes, insects, beasts and other creatures that live in this mountainous area together with humans will also know the changes of the seasons. In the cold winter, they will definitely hide in a winter fairy tale. Silently counting the past of this spring, summer and autumn, perhaps thinking about the future, it seems that I have not said a word. Maybe they are adhering to a story that has been passed down orally from generation to generation: "Live a year longer, take a good sleep, and when you wake up, spring will be warm and the flowers will bloom." I think, if I tell them the poet's words, "Winter is coming, Can spring be far behind?" They must laugh out loud in their sleep.
The trees in winter are a lyrical poem written on the land of Lincang, which is both rough and bold, yet graceful and delicate; many trees, such as pine, cypress, tea and many others, grow in the mountains and fields. Unknown broad-leaved trees, dressed in green all year round. A few trees, such as peaches, pears, persimmons, walnuts, kapok, and walnuts, have lost all their leaves in the bleak autumn wind, leaving only weather-beaten branches and bare crowns; those deciduous trees, from the first autumn leaves fell From then on, the trees began to sing the praises of the earth. I like to raise my head and watch the fallen leaves falling. I feel it is so magnificent. The leaves rush to the embrace of the earth and turn into soil again, without any regrets, with the generosity of a phoenix in its rebirth. The trees have fallen leaves, interpreting the charm of winter into a majestic and desolate one. The trees have lost all their leaves, like soldiers waiting ready to face a baptism of wind and frost.
Although those evergreen trees do not lose their leaves, their growth slows down from autumn, and their growth almost stops after winter. If you look carefully, the buds on the branches are shriveled, shrunken, covered with scales and hairs, the leaf tips are dry, and the leaves are green and yellow, revealing the message of silence and aging. For people living in Lincang, if you can feel the change of seasons from the leaves and understand the charm of winter, it is a pleasant thing; winter is a test, both for trees and people, to withstand the cold wind of winter. Frost sword can embrace warmth.
The winter wind is the heroic Song poem engraved between the sky and the earth in Lincang, or the moon and stars are sparse, the sky is vast, or the iron plate and copper lute, the bottom of the peach blossom fan and the great river are going eastward, with a strong and vast artistic conception. Listen, the sound of the wind is like a distant whistle, roaring in and roaring away. Walking in the howling wind, you will be blown through and cool immediately, making you feel a complete chill, which goes deep into your bones and reaches the bottom of your heart. Perhaps, in the southern land of Lincang, only in the whistling wind can you understand the meaning of winter and experience the taste of cold.
Walking in the winter wind, I often recall some past events from my childhood. My father could always feel the warmth and coldness between heaven and earth from the wind. He counted the days with his fingers, and he wanted to choose the coldest place in his hometown. During the day, she kills New Year pigs and marinates pure bacon and sausages with her own hands, so that the family can live an old age full of bacon. My mother observes with her eyes to see if the wind has cooled the earth to the point of frost. During the short frosty days, I pickled braised tofu, soy beans, pickled vegetables and other pickles with different ingredients and flavors to prepare for the coming year; I like to chase barefoot in the cold wind with my friends. Running and playing, he is an ignorant and fearless young man chasing the wind. In the blink of an eye, more than fifty years have passed by in the wind. I am old and can no longer run, but the wind is still as young as ever, the pace is still as thorough and neat, and I can come and go freely.
The warm sunshine in Lincang in winter always shows her tenderness and understanding in the gentlest manner. The sunshine is thin, soft, light, not warm or brilliant, but it is enough to make people happy and comfortable.
I remember when I was a child, during the winter leisure season, people in the village were used to bathing in the warm sun, thinking about the distant past, and planning the work for the coming year, with slow tones and lazy behaviors. Time flies by on tiptoe, and it is easy for people to doze off under the warm sun in winter. Half a day flies by, and I feel that the days are so simple, warm and comfortable. My mother loves to dry the quilt in the sun. The quilt that has been drying for a day, wrapped in the smell of the sun, has a warm and fragrant feeling, which will definitely give me a good night's sleep.
The winter in Lincang is dry and cool, with little rainfall. It is the best time to visit relatives or travel for sightseeing. Rural people often arrange festive activities such as building houses, moving to new homes, marrying daughters and getting married. In the dry and leisurely winter; unlike in the far north, where there is always heavy snowfall in winter, the snow falls silently, the love of the years, thousands of miles of ice, thousands of miles of snow drifting; after the snow, people will hide in the old castle in Andersen's fairy tale world." "Cat Winter", spending a long leisurely time, maybe reading by the stove, or sending messages endlessly, although it is poetic, but not free; it is different in Lincang, my hometown, even if the early wind cools the sky and the earth, Although the cooling is not severe, you don’t need to wear bulky winter clothes, and you can carry out various outdoor activities without any scruples; you can see that the wheat, rapeseed, and broad beans in the fields are still growing freely, and people are walking on the streets wearing thin clothes. Working in the fields….
Fog is the spirit of winter in Lincang. Morning fog is the beautiful embellishment of this mountainous area. Foggy winter is wonderful. Standing on the top of the mountain, every valley is covered with thick fog like cotton. The continuous peaks reflected by the rising sun are like sacred mountains and fairy islands floating in the sea of ??clouds. The entire land of Lincang is like a Buddhist paradise. , suddenly becomes a bit mysterious and a bit charming; if you are in a valley, it is a different world. The thick fog makes everything blurry, with low visibility and poor sense of direction. The boundaries between things seem to disappear; near noon, the morning fog dissipates, and the earth is like a beauty waking up from a curtain of dreams, clear, gentle, and elegant.
I like to listen to the monsoon singing and live my life following the seasons. I praise my hometown. I love the red land of Lincang. It has neither scorching heat in summer nor severe cold in winter. Year after year I am often intoxicated by winter. In the peaceful, warm, hazy, leisurely and beautiful mood, I live a down-to-earth and gentle life. Prose in Praise of Winter Part 2
I stubbornly believe that the real winter remains in childhood.
In the countryside, when winter comes, there is a blank period.
A year’s farm work has been completed. The fields and mountains are all empty. The seeds are still in the barn, the saplings are still on the slopes, the cows are tied in the pens, and the dogs are strolling around the village.
Winter is the end of the year. It is used for cleaning and reviewing, dusting off the dust on the window panes in the corners, and wiping the square table clean. Sharpen your cutting knives and stack firewood. Pile up potatoes, sweet potatoes, winter bamboo shoots, kill a pig... Prepare your home-brewed rice wine, and winter will begin with the aroma of wine.
The village where I like myself is gradually filling up. Those who have traveled far away, those who have finished their work for a year, are like migratory birds returning home, carrying big and small bags. The wind and dust on the road made their faces blush, which was the color of joy and reunion. Such joy infects everyone in the village.
It would be a greater joy if one of the guests returning from afar is a relative of oneself. When we were young, we often looked forward to the return of our uncle who was studying abroad and the return of our aunt who was working outside. Waiting for the uncle to hug himself tightly and throw him into the air; waiting for the aunt to take out a gift from the city from the colorful bag. In childhood, a gift brought back from a foreign land fills the child's heart with surprise. Only in winter can this bright color appear on the calendar of life; only in winter can our childhood unlock this surprise.
I also like that the farmers who have been busy for three seasons in spring and autumn are walking with their hands on the wall of the playground. The sun falls on their shoulders, faces, and gray hair. They walk along the The roots of the wall move, forgetting the seasons and time, forgetting the passage of time. Their hearts are as clean as a threshing floor blown by the wind. Their hearts entered the hinterland of time, the most peaceful period of the year.
In the middle of winter, after college, I didn’t know how thick the snow was outside the window. It had never snowed before. My parents would get up early, put the sweet potatoes and potatoes on a piece of green tile, add large pieces of charcoal to the stove, light a fire, and put the green tile on the fire, so that when we wake up, the sweet potatoes and potatoes are already cooked. The aroma of the food lingered on my tongue, passed through the two firewood doors, passed the high wooden threshold, got into my bed, and penetrated into my nose. The naughty aroma wandered around the room, one after another. It tempts my stomach and lets it rumble and sing "The Story of an Empty City".
The real winter is in the countryside. Lin Bo, who sells firewood next door, often brings surprises: sometimes he will catch a stray hare on the snow-covered mountain; sometimes, he and a group of young men from the village will ambush a wild boar that is looking for food. . I hid in the snow outside the house and made footprints with my new cloth shoes. Suddenly, an indescribable smell surged in my heart. wonderful!
The real winter is in the countryside, in childhood. Many years later, a pure past remains there. There are still snowflakes on the windows, the wheat seedlings are still secretly leaning up under the snow quilt, and my grandfather's old cow is still snoring in the pen.
Only we are drifting away, drifting away... - Remembering the winter in the past, essays praising winter, Part 3
It’s winter again, the season of snow in the north!
When walking in the snow, both legs are careful, but the snow, the ice, and the cold are all words written by us northerners! Maybe it’s because I was born in the north, so I’m used to letting my mind run free in seasons like this...
Last night, a cold wind blew through, and the autumn, which was originally full of infinite green, turned into something green in the blink of an eye. It has turned into winter, and the white snow is thickly covered in our dreams last night. Before we can let our smiles touch the last trace of autumn, a vast white world appears in front of our eyes!
Standing in the thick snow, I am looking for where has the promise of autumn gone?
The leaves are buried in the snow in disorder. The way they leave can make us feel their figures struggling in the cold wind. The leaves in the snow are like yellowed writing. I am I muttered her name silently in my heart, and the past stories flowed into my mind like an overflowing river. Yesterday, the leaves were like believers of a season, with the fragrance of flowers and abundant fruits. These were just like the letters he held in his hands. In the hissing of the north wind in winter, he read the words inside again and again, and his youthful feelings were like The sweet and sour feelings of lemon are displayed in front of you. That long-lost season came to me at the moment of reading the letter, and it seemed like an empty oath to each other, still able to stay together for five hundred years in this boundless snowfield.
What kind of emotion should this be? Life has taken away too much from us!
In the season of farewell, every time, I will stand there and stare. The words that I didn’t have at this moment disturb me and I can’t sleep. Human life is limited, and I don’t want to let sleep take up it. For a large part of my life, I firmly believe that I cannot change nature, but I firmly believe that only myself can change myself.
People always feel lonely at night, just like tonight, in the whistling northwest wind, recalling the laughter and tears before that scene, letting loneliness be like a shadow and in the freedom of breathing. I remember one of my brothers and sisters once said, "I am very beautiful, like a dark elf."
As we pass through one season after another, at this moment, I am still like an elf in the night, hiding in the clouds and trekking. In the same world, I also have such a longing heart. Why do I only bloom with the beauty of the night? This thought Who should I talk to and who should I express my feelings to? Gazing at the ceiling with confused eyes, tears rolled across the cheeks, but they could not be stringed together. Just like the time in memory, the distant pictures were still there, but could not combine the laughter of the day, and the bursts of sadness!
Autumn is gone, and he has not yet put away the last foot of nostalgia for the past. All the footprints of memories are hastily buried by the white snow of early winter. The words of autumn have become memories. Those prosperous years, The smiling faces during harvest and the leaves torn by the wind have become stories hidden under the snow!
In winter, I like snow. When I open the window and see the white world, a warm current always surges in my heart. My longing heart can no longer stop looking forward to it!
Some people are afraid of the chill of winter. No matter how beautiful the silhouette is, no matter how warm the smile is, it may be turned into a cold and bitter shadow by the cold current. But only faith is the temperature of this season!
I remember that it was winter years ago. When I was young, I often went to visit my grandmother’s house with my father. It was also snowing heavily. Walking on the road, my father always comforted me, we are almost there! In fact, I was extremely cold at that time, my hands were numb from the cold, and my face was blue from the cold. But after hearing my father’s words, I always insisted on walking, even though every time I arrived at my grandmother’s house, it was not as warm as I imagined. But this family affection gave me a desire like a warm current. Later, I realized that it was a belief!
Life cannot be without faith. This is the truth that winter told me!
Stepping on the wheel of time, we have entered this winter again. The heavy snow in the sky has covered up our dreams of the previous season, but we have not lost the pace of moving forward, and follow the rhythm of life. We are running in the snow, that is desire waving to us, our love, our pursuit, turned into a belief, which strengthened our belief during the difficult journey!
The words in winter add another layer of concern for loved ones!
It’s snowing, and the cold wind has told everyone in the world, but our relatives still conveyed the words “put on clothes to keep out the cold” to us through the radio waves at the first time. The cold in winter can be Drive away the bustling autumn, but it can never drive away the family affection, friendship and affection in our world! A true love in the world can turn the cold snow into a thick spring stream, as long as we have affection and love in our hearts!
Entering this winter, although I don’t know how many stories there are in front of this season, I will not feel cold. I will continue the unfinished words of the previous season along the path of this season. It is a life's duty to keep moving forward: to pass on the torch of love!
They say that entering winter means entering a long season of waiting, but what I want to say is that as long as our hearts are full of desire, our love will still burn this season, bringing the desire of our lives to What a perfect expectation for the next spring-like years!
Winter once again burned my mind, so I wrote the same words as snow!
When I read the words of this winter, I understood more about the value of faith and family affection!