In lyrical prose about scenery, scenery is the main body, lyricism is the purpose, and philosophy is the inner part. The three are indispensable. So how to write lyrical prose about scenery? The content I bring to you below, I hope it will be useful to you.
Part 1 of a lyrical prose about scenery: The evening wind is late
Insects are chirping. Even though I was separated by a window, I could still smell it clearly.
Sitting in front of the computer, staring at the screen, doing nothing. Shake the mouse to click on one friend space after another, glance at it briefly, and then take the trouble to carefully click to close it. The soothing voice of the singer floated slowly from the speakers, a little cold. The fluorescent lamp above the head emits a silvery light, and the silent fan stirs the air in the room. Looking up, let your sight go past the welded iron windows and mottled walls, and pursue the figure of the setting sun through the dense branches and leaves. The mood is chaotic.
We are now at the end of August, and autumn has arrived very early. But the summer heat can still be felt in the air. The chirping of cicadas will soon be covered by yellow leaves. The body remains in the summer that blooms from the chirping. The larvae in the soil are waiting for the next summer, waiting for the next prosperous season of camphor.
I walked out of the room, leaned against the window, and remembered a familiar title: "There is no wind by the window." At this time, I can't feel the rough feeling of the dry palms of the autumn wind. Without the autumn wind to hold them back, the yellow leaves had no support. They fell straight from the branches and hit the ground, colliding lifelessly and casting a gray shadow. It is different from the previous impression: the yellow leaves fall like butterflies under the singing of the wind. I ruffled the hair in front of my forehead and on the back of my head, thinking that the long hair that had been with me for more than ten years had fallen silently and helplessly at the end of summer with the advent of windless autumn. Also failed to get any retention from Qiu Feng. Looking indifferently at the long hair of my beloved falling to the ground, my heart felt quietly relieved - just think of this as a new beginning.
Looking to the left, the ground is full of spots of sunlight filtering through the leaves. The luxurious gold is not dazzling, but it highlights the calmness of the ground. Looking to the right, the light at the end of the corridor flickers off, but the footprints left in the past are clearly visible in my mind. I seemed to see the leisurely and comfortable life in the past, squinting my eyes, hooking my fingers, and saying softly: Don't move forward. Look here, isn't there the "good life" you always talked about in the past? Stay here! Look to your left, the sun is about to set. If you continue to move forward, what will greet you immediately will no longer be the kind sunshine in the past, but will most likely be the confusion you are pursuing in the dark night. Don't go any further, stay in the memories, everything here is beautiful...
Close your eyes and the voice disappears. There was a slight cool breeze ruffling the tips of my hair.
The wind is blowing.
With my eyes closed, I can still feel the moonlight pouring down in the wind and draping on my shoulders, just like the clothes my mother put on me when it was cold. Soft and warm. The sunshine has completely converged, but the earth has not dimmed due to this. Because there is a moon, there is a moon. Although she is not as radiant as the sun, her mature intellectual beauty can still move people's hearts.
Since growing up is an irresistible process, then why not let nature take its course and work harder to create a more beautiful world?
Although walking on the road, there is a thick feeling The night will make the road ahead confusing, you may stumble and fall, you may take unnecessary detours, you may feel that the road ahead is so long, and you may even doubt whether you are really capable of reaching the "country" of your dreams... But, what else? What does it matter? As long as you have a dream in your heart, there will be no shortage of roads you can walk on! Yes, "There is no road in the world, but when there are more people walking, it becomes a road." What's more, as long as I get through this long night, what greets me is the sun like a new life!
Thinking like this in my heart, the original traces of melancholy are also relieved by the wind.
Although, the evening breeze came a little late...
Part 2 of lyrical prose: The scenery along the way
After walking such a long road, I have seen so many scenery. Just the scenery along the way, do you still remember it?
Day after day, year after year, time is like a stretched line, long and fragile. In this line, we only care about carrying our bags and walking on this road, never looking back at the road we have walked; never stopping to gaze at the scenery along the way as the four seasons change.
Look at this spring, the green buds are climbing up the branches, and the flowers are smiling happily. Is there any joy like "the light rain in the street is as moist as crisp, and the color of grass looks far away but is not there"? You have never squatted down and watched the crystal clear water drops sliding down the veins of the leaves, leaving a trace of nostalgia; you have never closed your eyes to smell the fragrance of the flowers in the forest, which is filled with wantonness; you have never stopped to see Looking at the buds that are about to bloom, there is a microwave in your heart; you have never pricked up your ears and listened to the crisp calls of birds lingering in your ears. Therefore, you will only cry when you are frustrated, and never look at the scenery along the way, the blooming flowers, budding grass, and the singing of birds, which teach you to bravely take steps forward.
Looking at this summer, the sultry air makes people breathless, and my mood is just like the weather, mixed with irritability and uneasiness. But you have never lied by the window, in that quiet night, listening to the harmony of the cicadas and listening to them play the music of their lives. Even though they know that their lives are short, they never give up on the beauty of this life.
You have never looked for them, you have never known which treetop they are in. The words of teachers and the warnings of parents fill your ears, making you regard their beautiful voices as noise. You will only close the window, immerse yourself in your own world, and listen to the sounds in your own world. You have never paid attention to the scenery along the way, so you don't know that in fact, cicadas are teaching you to sing and the beauty of life.
Look at this autumn, "autumn has been sad and lonely since ancient times." The autumn you see may always be like a dead old tree, without vitality and color. You have never seen the slowly falling leaves, stopping on the branches, making people so nostalgic, watching them dance like butterflies, no matter where they fall into the dust or in which corner. At the end of its life, it still repays this autumn with its most beautiful gesture. Have you never looked carefully at these golden fallen leaves? They are sinking into the dust, using their last strength to dedicate themselves to giving more nutrients to this big tree and more moisture to this flower, in exchange for the beauty of next spring, to wake up More green friends. You have never paid attention to the scenery along the way, and you don't know that the fallen leaves tell you: dedication is also a kind of beauty.
Look at this winter, the snow-white world appears in front of you. You have never touched the cold water column, hanging transparently on the eaves and treetops. Through it, you seem to see a bigger world. A simple and vague world. If you have never touched snowflakes and felt its softness and whiteness, this vast white carpet will eventually turn into a pool of clean water, flowing through every corner without impurities and blending into every land. You have never experienced that bone-chilling coldness. You have never paid attention to the scenery along the way: you don't know that a simple heart is as simple as the ice and snow.
The road traveled will be longer and longer, and the scenery along the way will be more and more. What this scenery can bring you will be deeper and deeper...
In As you carry your luggage and run forward hard, when you are tired, when you are suffering, when you are happy, or when you are sad, don’t forget to stop occasionally to appreciate the scenery along the way and comprehend the profound beauty.
So that you will not feel lonely when you are walking on the road...
Part Three of Lyrical Prose about Scenery: The Smart West Lake
Since ancient times, there has been a "Shanghai" There is a saying that "there is heaven, and there is Suzhou and Hangzhou below." Suzhou is famous for its gardens, while Hangzhou is famous for its West Lake.
West Lake is exquisite compared to Taihu Lake, but it is surrounded on three sides The mountains, facing the city, look delicate and beautiful despite being surrounded by them. The air in the south of the Yangtze River is extremely hot, but I don't care much, because what is displayed in front of me is a vivid beauty that I have never seen before - a The lake nectar slowly swayed into green waves with the help of the soft wind. The green willows on the banks hung down their waterfall-like green ribbons to the toes, stretching into the water to make thousands of ripples. The mountains far and near also became gentle because of the water. The sky outlined a wonderful arc... I was completely impressed by the miraculous craftsmanship of nature. My free heart was instantly released, and my soul became transcendent.
Walking on the Sudi, watching the small boats blending into the scenery, and suddenly seeing embroidery needles piercing the satin-like lake water, my body and mind seemed to have returned to the time when Hangzhou was still called Lin'an. Seeing the beauty frowning and sighing, she leaned against the railing and wiped her tears. She thought about it, and then chanted the beauty of the West Lake. She also thought that if she could hold a book of Song poems in the hazy rain of the West Lake, this trip would be unforgettable. Sorry. Immediately, I was so overwhelmed with thoughts that I forgot what I saw before me, and just fell into the ancient dream of Jiangnan. It wasn't until the rain got heavier that I hurriedly held up my umbrella and took a closer look at the scenery.
I have always only known the gentleness of Jiangnan, but I didn’t know that the rain in Jiangnan is also so continuous. It is like the embroidered curtain dropped by the goddess, with a soft and smokey texture that is thick but as light as cicada wings. And when the raindrops hit the lotus leaf, it also changed its shape - it didn't have the texture of soft silk threads, but it had the moistness of scattered pearls. And the hibiscus, which was originally elegant, became more delicate and lovely after being washed by the rain.
I said: "I will come to the West Lake four times in my life, at least four times!" Because if I don't see the "Su Ti Chun Xiao" in spring, the "wind lotus in Quyuan" in summer, the "Autumn Moon in Pinghu" in autumn, the "break" in winter "The bridge is partially covered with snow." Then the West Lake in my heart is incomplete.
And I also want to feel the life-and-death alliance of Butterfly Lovers and Butterflies on Shuangtou Bridge; appreciate the millennium love of White Snake Xu Xian in Lei Feng Tower; sigh at Xiling Bridge's peerless talent of Su Xiaoxiao - if the scenery of lakes and mountains is like an ink painting "There is always a place where people forget where they came from and where they are going." If you go to the West Lake, You will believe that there is indeed such a place!