A trip to the river in senior three.

I have always had the image of that river in my mind: life is like a river, like the Yellow River, like the Yangtze River. Different ages of life are like different reaches of a river. For example, infants are ignorant, babbling, toddler, crying and laughing, eating and sleeping, carefree and innocent, just like a clear stream from the source of the Yellow River, which flows silently all day long. Why does it flow? Where does it flow? I have no idea, and I don't care. It is common for people to go to school, play, eat, fight for clothes, make friends, quarrel and fight, cry and shed tears, and try to play tricks from time to time, but they are timid and afraid to move, just like the rushing water in the upper reaches of the Yellow River, which is full of energy and shows the true colors of rivers and rivers. In active and energetic youth, people are strong, full-fledged, energetic, dare to think, dare to do, dare to take the lead, not afraid of death, dare to rush into the sea of fire, just like the water in the middle and upper reaches of the Yellow River, rolling in, scouring the banks, wrapped in rocks and sand, showing the spectacular scene of the river with irresistible force, giving people a symbol and illusion of strength. People reach middle age, mature, full of red leaves and green flowers, and fruitful. Just like the water in the middle reaches of the Yellow River, huge waves are emptying, destroying, decaying, surging and unruly, showing unstoppable momentum and endless impact. Any difficulties and obstacles are insignificant. That thrilling force can be created or destroyed, which is an irresistible force of nature. For a person, this is a bumper harvest period; For the Yellow River, it is not only the soul, but also a symbol of strength, which can bring great benefits to mankind and may also crush the beautiful ideals of mankind. This is the most difficult basin to control in the Yellow River. Life enters old age, calm and peaceful, kind and simple, calm as water, and uncontested; Living, enjoying, suffering, sadness and worry, chic and pride are all in the past. Just like the water in the lower reaches of the Yellow River, it is magnificent and steady as Mount Tai. There are no huge waves rolling, only rough waves. It looks calm, but it has rich connotations and inexhaustible treasures. Until the surging river rushed into the sea, merged with the boundless sea and connected with the boundless blue sky, the shape of the river was dissolved, the shape of the water was submerged, the name of the river was drowned, and the romance of the waves was lost, but it broadened the mind and entered a higher realm. Just when life stopped breathing, it was sent to the crematorium, turned into a wisp of smoke, turned into a pile of ashes, rose to the illusory kingdom of heaven and entered the eternal world. A person's life, nothing more. From small to old, from birth to death, from small to large, until it disappears into the sea, how similar it is to a river! People have naive childhood, lovely teenagers, vigorous youth, mature prime of life, rich old age and even death; There are gurgling streams, rushing rapids, turbulent waves and steady waves in the river until it melts into the sea. They are not the same creature, but they share a similar fate. Life is a process, life and death are not important, what matters is this process. Live, come naked, die, go naked. All the connotations-happiness, sadness and pain-are in the process of life and death. Life is death. However, without this process, life and death are meaningless. Life is like a river, but people have more selfish desires, more self, more creation, more enjoyment, more troubles and sorrows, more busyness, more happiness and pleasure than rivers. That river is my friend. I like to squat down and stare at the figures, fish shadows and moon shadows in the water. In the long winding, gentle and turbid river, I read that the years are long, the waves fade, and the bubbles gather and disperse, but they remain the same. It tells the story that when I was young, the river crossed the mountain and burst out of the mountain stream, "flying down to thousands of feet"; Also flows through the canyon, aggressive, and rocks after numerous collisions, scarred walking, taking away the sediment of a corpse; I have been to the grassland. The grassland is so vast. It flows, it flows, and it is covered with white velvet. When it dries up, it flows to the legendary bridge. It remembers that once there was an ancient bridge, a venerable old man, who silently crossed many people on the riverbank, and let it know how to tolerate silently, slowly and silently; It remembers that there is an old banyan tree on the shore, which is its bosom friend. It often hangs down branches, teases it, tells it many interesting things, and makes it splash happily. It remembers an admirable mountain, so high that its reflection is full of mountains. It also remembers how fragrant the flowers by the river are and how naughty and lovely the butterflies are. It still remembers that the hands of girls who wash clothes are so beautiful and white even if they have calluses; It still remembers that children from riverside families often come to play in the water, catching snails, crabs, fish and shrimp. What a wonderful memory it was, being alone and still very clear. After decades of flowing, the riverside is no longer a small bridge, picturesque. Instead, pointed houses and tall buildings, as well as factories with long chimneys. People are in a hurry and their expressions are indifferent. Occasionally, a few smiling children threw cans, beverage bottles and leftover apple cores at it. In addition, several hateful factories discharge industrial wastewater on it, which makes it smelly, itchy and painful. Water, gradually turbid; Fish and shrimp, slowly extinct. I only saw cans, beverage bottles and black and white plastic bags floating on the black river, and people's expressions were full of disgust. It really wants to shout, "I am like this because of you!" " "But it is not as energetic as it was when it was young. It is used to flowing quietly and slowly. What can it do? Who can understand its pain? I see. As its friend, I wrote this article for everyone-the sound of that old river!