Beautiful prose describes the thoughts of the evening.

The summer night is quiet and beautiful. The following is a beautiful essay I brought to you, describing my thoughts in the evening for your appreciation.

Beautiful prose describes the thought of night: Shan Ye's night

I feel that at night, I am not in a colorful city, nor in a country where chickens crow and dogs bark, or accompanied by elegant light music, or enjoying tea comfortably, or calling friends, or accompanying couples, but alone on a deserted wild mountain. Because of my career, I have nothing to do at night, so I often sit or stand quietly in remote barren hills, watching the deep and fantastic night sky, watching the surrounding darkness and listening to the sounds of nature overflowing with purple.

Most people think that the night is quiet. Southern dynasty? The quieter the cicada mountain, the quieter the birdsong forest? , more strengthened this impression. In fact, the night is noisy, ultra-low frequency and random. Occasionally, a loud noise or a little noise dragging its tail across the eardrum often seems to be a sudden gaffe, indicating that you are suddenly alert and come to an abrupt end. I'm afraid even people who make noise will be scared by their gaffes. This is actually a kind of hidden noise and hidden excitement.

Unless it is the wind, especially the night wind in spring, it seems to tear open the boundless sky and roar across hundreds of millions of light years from the universe and the Milky Way. Woo hoo? , Hibika? , shout shout? , huh? , mighty, swaggering, without scruple to give every close contact a series of long and hard kisses, including protruding stones, protruding branches, or tall hay. I don't care how anyone feels, whether you like it or not. This is probably the secular adulteration between the prince and the showgirl, flirting with the opposite sex? Romantic? Original intention.

But the Spring Festival Gala is absolutely passionate.

Although the wind is still strong, the depth of the night is not only full of black, but also full of a stronger sense of animal wildness and urgency. Their passion burns like a flame, emitting a suffocating heat wave, huh? Hey? Hey? The sudden arrival of the earth, mixed with the teasing or ambiguous moans of those animals, will cause a series of inexplicable ups and downs in the normally flowing air.

At this time, I felt the grass in the cracks of the soil, and I couldn't help but rise to the jointing stage and poked my head out to take a peek. Some grasses, like golden light, can't even resist the temptation of youth. On one night, they put on flower bud headdresses with mature signs, eagerly waiting for the comfort and luck of the sunshine the next morning.

Therefore, the earthy smell comes out in a fishy way, blending and strengthening the sweetness of male and female secretions of various animals and plants. However, it is clear that it creates an interesting picture of spring with Chinese painting.

Summer nights are undoubtedly noisy.

Listen carefully, the buzz is coming and going, surging everywhere. Indeed, you can hear some places on some hills, the noise of some animals, melodious songs, fierce quarrels, boring love words and even bitter fights. The frogs you can usually hear seem to be gone because there is almost no water nearby. However, groups of bright black squirrels, badgers, rabbits, pheasants, pheasants and so on. Sometimes it will appear in front of you unexpectedly, or not too far away. At that time, once they found you, they would suddenly hold their breath in panic, pause for a moment, and when they saw that you didn't respond, they quickly and quickly disappeared into the faint grass and walked into another boundless night. There, they will chirp proudly and celebrate their escape.

Plants certainly don't want to be lonely, just like dumb children, they are full of energy. They accumulate enough sunshine and strength during the day, squirming and squirming, and then let go of their strength and grow wildly at night; Click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click.

But it can't be windy, even though I don't know. Why are you flipping through books? Breeze, its appearance, like a lonely husband, will curb all lively movements.

If the ground is too noisy, look up at the sky That kind of ghost, which is similar to ancient fantasy, will make people keep thinking and fall into a state of near despair or collapse. It is better to watch the meteor shower, put your hands together, make a grand wish and expect a kind of happiness.

I'm not afraid of windy nights. I am bold, but I dare not stand alone on the mountain on a rainy night. ? Dark clouds crush the city to destroy it? This situation is really naive for Shan Yu. First of all, the darkness around the sky and the ground is like pouring thick asphalt, bullying you from top to bottom, so dark that there is nowhere to hide, so dark that people feel guilty and desperate. Followed by terrible lightning. Ears? Whoa, whoa, whoa? Thunder exploded, and then like a sword, lightning suddenly emerged from the darkness, and then searched around like a snake letter, as if to grab something purposefully. This reminds me of lightning strikes, goblins or thunder. Pick someone up? I can't help hiding some cruel and worrying stories and legends. The raindrops on the mountain seem to be hard, like stones, hitting the ground.

I can only hide in a shed that seems to be shielded and protected, and watch Shan Yu vent in a big way through the glass window.

In fact, there are more Shan Yu in autumn, but it seems that there is not much personality.

In the autumn night, the bonfire on the distant hillside is clearly extinguished, like the eyes of a night watchman, wary of animals attacking crops. But most animals, like the scarecrow, simply ignore this bluff. They are all busy nervously, running around, climbing up and down, going in and out. My ears seem to be full of whimpers and gasps when they carry food, as well as biting and swallowing when they bite food. The rhythm of everything seems to be urged by the drums. The one-year plan is in autumn. In autumn, the fat is not fat enough, and the food is not fully stored. Who can survive a barren and cold winter? Unlike people, they have subsistence allowances, pensions and filial piety. For them, it's just a pipe dream.

But autumn birds (also known as? Call a child? ) Still immersed in the dark stage, Rinrin sang affectionately. Singing may be the most important form in their lives, and they may be doing their final glory. Echoing each other, high and low, long and short, meticulous, it is like preparing a life drama for a lifetime.

Fireflies, like idle Nightcrawler, wander around with lanterns. Are they checking the animals' winter preparations? Are they visiting food-rich places? Are they looking for an ideal resting place in the future?

The fifteenth moon comes in a hurry, and the clouds reflected in the mirror are still all busy silhouettes in the world. At this time, the sky is not like an unfathomable huge black hole, but more like a huge threshing floor, filled with all kinds of Zhuanghe clouds ready to be crushed and packed. The moon is a roller. What is the annual harvest of everyone, every plant and animal, and everyone?

Before all the hiccups and greetings were over, an unexpected snow and cold announced the end of autumn and the arrival of winter. Yes, winter is coming.

That night, the sky was not black, but turned from bright to bright and from bright to gray. After that, snowflakes fell on the screen one by one. It was not cold at first. The wind started in the middle of the night, and the temperature dropped immediately. Snow particles turned into snowflakes, and snowflakes became flying all over the sky. The snowy night was almost silent, and all the noise seemed to melt on the carpet. All the animals have disappeared. One day, two days, three days and three nights of snow. The temperature has also dropped to MINUS 20 degrees, so it is difficult to turn back.

Wearing a cotton hat, standing on the top of the mountain, the eyes are bright white, the distance is hazy gray, and the sky is dark blue gray. Those once dark mountains nearby have become the same color as Tianshan Mountain, and the night is almost the same as the day, so it is difficult to distinguish them clearly.

On the contrary, the stars become particularly eye-catching, big and bright, and look very close. The air is unusually cold.

But the hare finally couldn't stand the hunger and cold, and wandered in the snowfield, leaving its helpless footprint. It should envy badgers and weasels in underground caves and store enough food for a winter. What are you afraid of, the snow is three feet thick and you can't find anything to eat? I know there will be more and more rabbits in the market in the future.

The wind is getting stronger and stronger.

The biting cold wind all night brought the world to the dead of winter. Is this the earth entering the depths of the universe?

When I go to the mine next year, the strong wind will become a scraper with a blade, scraping off frozen soil and ice layer by layer, and then wrapping it with a damp and hot wind towel. Gradually, the whole mountain area becomes clear and green, and I often walk to the top of the mountain in my spare nights to feel the purest and most wonderful heartbeat of nature?

Beautiful prose describes the idea of night: night

In the night sky, the bright stars in the sky sparkle; There is a lot of history in the round moon; Plus fireflies, it's really beautiful.

Lying on the edge of the green grass in the dark, I heard the music played by insects like musicians. It's really sweet.

Sitting on the grass, looking at the dark and shiny sky. It seems that I also entered the history of the moon and saw the legendary sister Chang 'e and Little Jade Rabbit. With them.

Fireflies surround the whole lawn, and I feel happy at night, because night has the feeling of nature, and it is also the most free and happy time for bugs!

Although it is dark at night, it is a paradise for insects as long as it is night; Only in this way can there be a taste of nature.

Beautiful prose describes the thought of night: the beauty of night.

It's midnight again, sleepless. Or maybe you are torturing yourself. But if you go with the flow and ask your soul, will you?

The habit of staying up late has existed in my memory since I was a primary school student. At that time, the sky was still blue, and small fish could be seen playing in the river. Occasionally, transparent shrimps crawl slowly in the fine sand at the bottom of the water, and the water plants sway with the slow water flow. There was a plane flying in the sky with a long white tail. My friends and I have been holding our heads up and chasing the direction of the plane, watching the white tail always produce and slowly dissipate until the plane slowly disappears at a point and slowly disappears into the field of vision. At that time, I tried my eyesight with my friends to see who could persist until others could never see the plane again, even if it was just a vague bright spot in my mind.

It is rare to wait until a Sunday (at that time, there was no current double break system, or a single break system), and the day was so wonderful, not to mention playing hide-and-seek among the grass mounds in the village and catching cicadas in the Woods on a better night. At that time, cicadas were equivalent to a good meal. Until very late, a small partner exclaimed that today's homework had not been done, and tomorrow the teacher would personally check it (at that time, the homework was usually checked by the student leader, and finally the results were reported to the teacher), so everyone quickly dispersed and went home to start writing homework on the humble table. At that time, there was no concept of reducing students' burden, so students' homework burden was quite heavy, coupled with a pair of unfulfilled ambitions, which made their lives. So it is normal to do homework at 9: 30 p.m. to 10 or even later. As a result, I gradually developed the habit of studying by myself at night, and slowly began to enjoy the unique quiet and warmth at night, which I couldn't feel in the busy sunshine.

Maybe it's getting old with age, or the heart is getting old slowly. In fact, in the depths of thinking, more and more things and scenes from my childhood hometown began to emerge, and more and more people began to remember my parents who were getting older and haggard with the years. A writer said that when a person begins to be nostalgic, it proves that he is old. Maybe the unknown guy is right. When a person begins to get old, the most obvious sign is nostalgia, and then his body function slowly begins to slow down.

But what's wrong with getting old? More and more memories can slow you down. You can quietly sort out your memories and thoughts, and slowly taste the ups and downs of the past. Sometimes life is like a piece of Pu 'er tea. The longer the years, the more mellow the tea is. Of course, not everyone has the corresponding level to read this incense. It also needs people who understand it to slowly explain the time wasted for it. Just like the night now, it is quiet and mysterious, which relaxes the mind and melts into the mind.

Forget the omnipotent situation during the day, forget the compromise and perfection during the day, and forget the uncontrollable during the day. In this quiet or serene night, everything seems to be the most real flow of life and the eternal destination of life. At this moment, I am the night sky, and the night sky is me. Occasionally, the wind blows gently on your face, so you are lucky, because you are lucky enough to taste the touch of your mother's hand when she was young. Her hand is smooth and delicate, without a trace of wrinkles and cracks. At that time, the carving knife of the years had not carved flowers on her hand.

Recently, there is an impulse, as if there is a voice in my ear, and my heart is constantly calling, go back, go back, this is not your Eden, this is not the paradise in your mind, this is not the paradise you originally dreamed of. Go home, go home, go back to that poor and dilapidated place, but there are your dreams, your parents who brought you to this world, the river you are deeply attached to, the Qiu Chan you are obsessed with, and the lingering smell of your soul in the air there. Now this place, you have been so struggling and so full of helplessness, why insist on it? Go home, that's home, real home, not the small lattice of reinforced concrete here.

The resignation of a female teacher on the Internet some time ago? The world is so big, I want to see it? All of a sudden the fire, think about it carefully, what kind of mentality do you have to spread this news? Perhaps it is a bystander mentality, but these bystanders may have the same throbbing heart in their hearts, but they just don't have the courage to face it. So I can only envy, and I can only silently make up for the free and easy that I can't look straight at. The secular world is tired, just like fish in the tide. How many people can live openly and freely in order to live? Just like in the daytime, knowing that you don't want to, but you have to do it, with a whole body of fatigue and scars, it's a pity that you don't have the spare capacity to appreciate the quiet and charm of the night, let alone enjoy it.

The night tonight is so beautiful and charming. Looking at the night sky, how many stars are twinkling in the distance?

Evening related prose articles:

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3. Prose describing rural nights

4. Beautiful prose at night

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