Tomb-Sweeping Day's composition is 80 words

Great-grandfather's grave is in the deep mountains, and it takes a long mountain road to worship. In the early morning, it was foggy all over the sky, and the scenery a few meters away was very vague. It makes sense to choose this time to go out, because today I will go to several hills to worship my ancestors. I only remember that in the morning, my father walked behind with sacrifices, and I skipped in front, like a caged bird. I still seem to be humming, maybe.

The mountain road winds and stretches, and weeds grow to my chest. We crossed fields, bypassed streams, climbed steep slopes, climbed several hills, and finally came to a canyon. Father shouted softly, "Don't run too fast, there are bamboo forests ahead." I answered, but I kept running into the canyon. Father shook his head at the back and smiled slightly. He knows that I like bamboo very much.

Close the door, close the door. There was a rustling sound in the mountain wind, and I finally saw the bamboo forest around the corner. The green tide has taken root in my life since then and can never be erased.

The leaves above the bamboo forest jump and fall with the wind, making a chilling sound, just like a green torrent, all the leaves are heading in one direction. The slender and green leaves, like boats in the rapids, are advancing rapidly. Standing among thousands of bamboos, I only feel that I have been conquered by green. Tall bamboo soars at the top of the canyon, covering the sky and playing with white clouds. Small bamboos, just emerging from the ground, are as big as my fingers, and clusters of tiny boats splash on the branches and join the struggle in the fog. The shock of green is overwhelming, and thousands of emeralds are swaying in front of me. I stroked bamboo, big and small, and walked around the forest, only feeling that everything was so wonderful.