Willow composition (5 comprehensive articles)

There is a row of willows in front of my house. It's beautiful all year round.

In early spring, the willow sprouts, and it is always felt before other deciduous trees. His buds are bright green. However, it is not edible. It is different from corn in color and size. The wicker gradually turns green, and thousands of branches are dense and thin. From a distance, it looks like a misty green smoke, slightly floating in Cui Yun. Up close, it looks like a curtain made of green pearls. If you enter it, it seems to be in a girl's green hair. Soft treetops rub people's faces, cool and itchy, like little sister's nails poking you.

In summer, willows grow leaves, become lush and look lush. From a distance, it looks like a small jade wall guarding the community.

In autumn, the weather turns cold, the willow turns yellow, the wind blows, the leaves dance and make a rustling sound. In this way, the willow tree became a golden ocean.

In winter, there is not a leaf left on the willow tree, only bare branches are left, swaying in the cold wind. It's snowing, and the branches are covered with snowflakes and flying flocs. It's really pure and beautiful Now, the willow tree has become a silvery white world.

I love willow, love its beauty and loveliness!

I like tall willows and green pine trees, but I like beautiful willows best.

There are white clouds floating in the blue sky, such as tigers, eagles and kittens. At this time, two swallows flew from the south, chirping, as if to tell us that "spring is coming"! The lake on the ground is quiet and clear. I can't seem to hear the sound of running water. You can even see sand and stones in the water, and a few small fish are swimming around.

There is a village in the distance. Several willows are surrounded by a tower. There is a green lawn nearby. The lawn is covered with Shi Zhuan, which continues to the bottom of the water. The grass is full of colorful flowers, and the most striking thing is the beautiful willow.

The roots of willow absorb nutrients underground, and the trunk is brown with several patterns on it. The branches are curved, like a little girl's braid, and the leaves are dense.

The uniqueness of this kind of tree is that when the wind blows, the branches sway gently, which looks like a girl's long hair from a distance and looks like a green hemp rope from a distance. This can't help but remind me of an ancient poem, "Jasper dresses up as a tree, and thousands of strands of moss hang down".

I love tall poplars, but I love beautiful willows more.

Chapter 3: About Liu's composition "Jasper is dressed as a tree, and thousands of strands of moss hang down. I don't know who cut off the thin leaves, and the spring breeze in February is like scissors. " When I read this poem, I felt admiration for the willow tree. Spring has come, and the willow tree reports the news to us like a messenger of spring. Willow sprouted first, as if to say, "Spring is coming, spring is coming." Willow buds stretch out their hands like wickers to welcome the arrival of spring! Wicker bent down, very soft, like mother's long hair. Some children weave straw hats with wicker, and some are still playing the flute!

In summer, we don't have to be afraid of the heat, because the willows open handfuls of green velvet umbrellas and bring us shade. Bees and butterflies come to play under the tree.

In autumn, the weather is getting colder and colder. Autumn wind blows and the leaves of willow trees turn yellow. With the autumn wind, they playfully sway on the wicker, and then, like a small butterfly with golden wings, fall lightly.

In winter, the willows are bare, but they still stand in the cold winter. After a heavy snow, snowflakes fell on the branches and willows were covered with silver.

I love willow, its exuberant vitality and its excellent quality of selfless dedication.

Chapter IV: Composition about Willow Many scenery in my hometown left a deep impression on me, but what impressed me most was the countless willow trees in front of and behind the village.

In the spring of March, the willow held its breath and greedily sucked the dew of spring. A few days later, the drooping dark green branches grew yellow tender leaves. The slender willows hang down with their tips pointing to the river. The spring breeze blows, and from a distance, weeping willows seem to be covered with thousands of green beads, floating around, so soft and elegant.

At this time, we like playing under the weeping willows best. Fold a willow branch, twist it gently, take out the slippery white stick inside and throw it away, and then trim it with a knife to make a willow flute. We put it in our mouth and blew it hard. The flute is crisp and loud, pleasing to the ear. We compete with each other to see who plays more tricks and plays well. When you are tired of blowing, you can play hide-and-seek under the tree, or run around with willow branches around your head. It was fun.

After a few days, the white catkins turned into balls and ran lightly. We chased after it with a smile. The green grass was covered with catkins, and there were a few strands of green beauty in the white, which no painter could draw.

With the growth of my whole age, I have a deeper understanding of weeping willows. You see, from the moment she pulled out the new branches, she looked at the soil under her feet. As the trunk grows taller, the branches hang lower and lower, even towards the ground. Perhaps it is because weeping willows know that they are rooted in the soil and suck their mother's milk, so they are graceful and beautiful, so they dance in the wind and humbly thank their mother.

I love weeping willows, and I love people who are as modest as weeping willows.

Chapter 5: The composition bridge about willow has decayed, stumbling on the back river, and it seems that it is still trying to witness the passage of time and historical changes. The tree is a willow, a tree standing in the middle of the bridge, different addresses, different environments, doomed her different life. Born in the cracks between the bridge stones, the willows, in order to survive and absorb the aura of heaven and earth and the sunshine and rain, struggled to bend upward so as not to fall into the river.

After vicissitudes of life, only a pair of unworthy carrion remains, lingering. The tree got a rare chance to survive, seized the opportunity and went through hardships, and finally grew into a big tree. Although there is no tall body, it is still tall and straight; Although there is no levee, the literati love litchi, and they are not enough to swim eastward, but they have their own joints; Nor did it cause the poet to lament the tenderness of Yang Liuan and Xiaofeng, but he also had a twisted side. All this is because the willow is still alive and strong.

When the swallow flies over her shoulder, when the voice of the wild goose glides through her hair, it seems to sigh that the world is in a hurry for her. And she just stood quietly in the middle of the bridge, listening to them and thinking about her past, present and maybe future. Yellowing leaves crumble in the wind, showing the last moment of life. The skinny branches, waving their arms alone, are like an old woman standing at the intersection, calling for lovers who are lingering and making promises, asking, are they okay? I stepped onto the bridge, approached the willow tree and gently expressed my love. For two years, they have been very good, very good.

At dusk, the water is sparkling and row upon row. Willow always hangs its head in the autumn wind, waiting for the spring breeze, but the season never travels for her. But she is very patient, never chasing fate, just quietly guarding the gap of her small territorial bridge and living her own difficult and ordinary life, because she never envies the prosperity in front of her, nor does she envy the prosperity in the distance, because she understands that the most beautiful thing is in her heart, not on the other side.

I walked across the bridges and willows in autumn. I seem to understand that it is always spring in willow's heart.