1. At the beginning of twenty essays describing the environment of Sandu, it was misty and rainy in the south of the Yangtze River. Beautiful as the wind, the clouds are silent. I hid myself in a dream and drowned myself in a yellowed poem. I watched the moonlight alone, quietly listening to the plane leaves falling and the rain dripping and rolling. I slept by the window and let the drizzle drift into my dream. The moment I opened the window in the morning. Like the yarn spun by silver thread, it floats gently. Rain, angel's tears, with a calm heart, fell into the bottom of the lake. In your eyes and mine, there are layers of ripples, interpreting these colorful seasons. I miss the past, compete in prosperity, still enjoy the world and understand the infinity of nature. So I won't be tired because of hard work, because there are streams and waterfalls. This is a fascinating place. The continuous green hills and quiet lakes are a fairy tale world, shrouded in mist and drizzle. The water is blue, but the mountain has changed its color. The integration of mountains and water is a contrast between static and dynamic, and monotonous and wonderful changes constitute the most beautiful scenery. Exploring in the green mountains and sailing in the green water are just like traveling in the picture world. The drizzle is poetic. I tasted loneliness alone in the noise. The wind shuttles through the lonely days, passing slightly, and the rain falls on the face delicately, and you can smell the mellow taste. Looking from a distance, I am hazy, and what I see is a touch of green. Staring at everything in the rain vaguely, miss grazing very much? Hey? Chai Fu Bi? The grass quivered slightly. They sucked the sweet rain and dew to their heart's content. Take a deep breath, the humid air is cool, mixed with faint grass and flowers. The air is full of the fragrance of rain, which is the fragrance of life. In a trance, a long piece of ancient music haunts my heart, touching and lingering. The sound filled the air. Just like the ethereal flute in music, like the tune played by the empty bamboo tube, the euphemistic and melodious guzheng sound is like running water. Vague sadness is illusory but real, just like layers of mist lingering on the hills, which makes people feel inexplicable between dreams and waking. The sound of nature, like a clear spring in a mountain stream, is crystal clear. Flowing into my rippling heart lake, the sky is like a mirror, the wind is like gauze, the bamboo waves are bursting, the water is gurgling, the clouds are lingering, and the shadows are clustered. Such as fog, it is also true and illusory, just like a fairyland, just like a floating landscape painting on rice paper, which makes people feel the magical beauty of "another cloud comes from Yunmeng Valley", and everything is so magical and ethereal. Wandering in the misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River. 2. Stepping on the traces of time, standing quietly under the sea of flowers and blue sky in summer, those smiling silhouettes became the only trace of peace. Looking out of the window, catkins caress rouge, the breeze turns blue silk, and the petals fall, and there are countless beauties. Roses in full bloom, smiling in the wind, let the figure walk through this summer. A warm afternoon. It is covered with golden sunlight. I remember your footsteps leaving, vaguely stepping on my heart. I was careless, but the pain was clear. Scattered memories are warm and clear. Only in the years to come, I will always walk in the scenery without you. At that time, we lived in a warm city with spring flowers, blue sky, smiles, happiness, you and me. Let me write an old love story. I often think of the green grass where we lay together, and the sky is full of raining stars, smiling at the dancing figure, just like the dream we had together. Only then, we were all too simple. You pointed to the two stars in the sky and said to me, Youyou, we will always be like them and will never be apart. Now think about those so-called forever, just bounce. After you left, I realized that fairy tales are too beautiful, vows are too light, and the rocks are broken. The seas run dry and the rocks crumble only for games. Yesterday, your laughter was still lingering, but today my footsteps remind me of the departure of this world. When I turned around, I was left alone, just like a flowing cloud; When I look back, I think of you who has gone away, like a rainbow. Everything started to leave, and finally I was alone in the corner, clutching my hair. And the shadows of those memories, drifting over the years, stay in a corner of my heart and get wet by the thoughts entangled in the years. Life is so leisurely and quiet, but beautiful. A breeze, a drizzle, a shade, a beam of sunshine, a morning. Because of you, nostalgia for the past is a memory of life, a ray of mood, and even a state of mind. Looking down, I suddenly saw a dead leaf blown down by the wind and slipped gently in front of my eyes. Before landing, the leaves twisted a reluctant arc, as if they had a lot to whisper to you in their hearts. The past is vaguely warm, rolling up countless flying flowers. Listen to the cold and warm life of the wind and feel its meaning. All the joys and sorrows are lingering like silk. Singing softly, whispering thoughts, fingertips filled with a season of sadness. Tears laugh at the world of mortals, and time is warm. The wind outside the window is singing softly. Pigeons flock together. Which one has gently brushed away loneliness, wrapped my thoughts and quietly passed away with the years. Yes, there are always some things in life that can stand the scrutiny or polishing of years, while some things are not far away with the passage of time, and some marks. Some impressions are only episodes in my life journey, and it is these episodes that have linked my life together. If something goes wrong, it will be my life. However, our story is like a paper plane, which only flies to the window in an instant, and then becomes a fairy tale forever. Remember to hear people say that memory is like water in the palm of your hand. Whether you open it or hold it tightly, it will still flow through your fingers one day. In reality, I will always be buried in my memory, and I will never erase the trace. I can't forget your voice, your smile and everything about you. The season ran aground and my memory precipitated. This faint feeling is still fresh in my memory. I don't know.
2. Start with three good compositions describing the environment in the form of scenery (not less than 80 words). Spring is a season full of imagination. Not as hot as summer, but the temperature is suitable; Unlike autumn, everything is green and full of vitality, full of green. Unlike the heavy snow in winter, the breeze bursts. I like the reverie of spring, and I prefer the story of spring. Grass has such a touching story. Spring has come. After many painful struggles, it broke through the ground, ushered in the first day of sunshine and rain, and took the first breath of fresh air. It smiles and swings freely in the breeze. It is free and easy, and the green leaves are dotted with the earth. Rain or wind. It does its best to send the most beautiful wishes and laughter to spring. The strength of the grass is touching, and its spirit of not being afraid of difficulties is inspiring. Throughout the ages, how many poets, poets and writers have praised the grass. Although its life is short, it is devoted to spring without hesitation. Well done! There is such a touching story on the hillside: with the ringing of the spring bell, everything on the hillside has revived as if it had been touched, and the original lifelessness has become vibrant. They all stretched themselves, washed the dust off their faces, coated them with smooth oil, and all of them were radiant. They also occupied every corner of the hillside like grabbing land, and the grass and flowers complemented each other; Butterfly bees work together; Tall trees and low trees are pitching. These beautiful scenes are in harmony with other scenery and really have a special taste. This river has such a beautiful story: with the continuous restoration of the scenery around the river, it also wants to show its most beautiful side. It is tinkling, and its voice is much brighter than before. In the bright sunshine, sparkling, as if wearing a flash suit, dazzling. This river is very clear. River! I didn't realize you were really unique. There are many stories about spring. As long as you pay attention to the bits and pieces around you, you will find them vivid, mysterious and beautiful, which will bring you full of shock and wonder. They all exude a noble temperament and are pleasing to the eye! Spring, the mysterious season.
The composition car at the beginning of the environmental description came, but it didn't stop. With great strength, several young people got into the car directly. A few quick boys jumped left and right like monkeys, jumped up with a whoosh and blocked the car door. Many people are desperately squeezing, only seeing white hands, bronze hands, rough hands and soft hands, instinctively reaching forward and waving, all hoping to catch the door. "Cyclops" may be a "battlefield" and take the lead. Just as the door opened, his right hand grabbed the handrail on the door and jumped up. People are already standing on the doorsteps. His left hand slammed the crowd in the car, his right foot pushed back and his left foot quickly lifted. Pushed by the crowd behind him, he finally got on the bus as he wished. A fat sister-in-law just stepped on the steps with her thick and short right leg, and her left foot kept pushing outward. She twisted her fat body with all her strength, and her bloated hands clung to the armrest of the car door. No matter how hard she tried, * * * was squeezed by the car door, making her shout "My God!" " "Crowding cars is really a different pursuit of fighting!
Crowd car
4. Hello, my friend. Many articles begin with environmental descriptions. Many essays are structured like this: For example, Lu Xun's Kite evokes many years' memories with the scene in front of him, and also lays an emotional tone for the article:
In winter in Beijing, there is still snow on the ground, gray-black bald branches are forked in the clear sky, and one or two kites are floating in the distance, which is a surprise and sadness for me.
The kite season in my hometown is spring and February. If you hear the rustling wind wheel, you can see a crab kite with light ink color or a centipede kite with bright blue color. There is also a lonely tile kite, which has no wind wheel and is placed very low, making a person look gaunt and pitiful. But at this time, the willows on the ground have sprouted, and the early-blooming mountain peaches are also spitting buds, which are in harmony with the decorations of the children in the sky and become a gentle spring day. Where am I now? It is still cold around in winter, but the long-lost spring in my hometown is rippling in this sky.
But I have never liked flying kites. I not only don't love it, but also hate it, because I think it's what worthless children do. Contrary to me, my little brother, who was about ten years old at that time, was very ill and thin. However, he likes kites best, and I can't afford them. He had to open his mouth and stare blankly at the sky, sometimes for half a day. The crab kite in the distance suddenly fell, and he exclaimed; The entanglement between the two tile kites was untied, and he jumped up happily. All this is my laughingstock and shame.
5. Tips at the beginning of the composition about describing the environment and setting off the atmosphere 6: Describe the environment and setting off the background. Outside the classroom, the whistling north wind is banging on the wall with dense raindrops, and it is ringing. In the classroom, an all-around competition exam is in a white-hot stage. (Excerpted from the full text of the senior high school entrance examination in Xiantao, Hubei Province in 2002, "Building a wall in my heart") The purple sunset filled the whole sky, including one round. Such a warm picture shows the warmth and calmness of "the sunset is the most beautiful", which is intoxicating and fascinating. (Excerpted from the full text of "Bringing the Beauty of Dawn to the Lost Me" in Jingzhou, Hubei Province in 2002) The evening wind blew the biggest ripple on the river, the sunset put away the last afterglow, and the autumn frost watched the last goose go. We stood quietly, our eyes wandering in distant memories. When many have withered, we can at least say to ourselves, "Don't be sad, I have experienced that feeling, although I only have one." (Selected from Once Had, the full text of Anhui senior high school entrance examination in 2003).