There is a landscape where you are First Year Essay

In daily life or work and study, we have tried to write essays, with the help of essays can be cathartic emotions, regulate their mood. You know how to write a good essay? The following is I help you to organize have your place there is a scenery first year essay 500 words (generic 12), I hope to help you.

Where there is you, there is scenery first year essay 1

Sunrise, there is you; afternoon, there is you: dusk, there is you; under the moon, there is you. Everywhere there is you, everywhere there is you, and where there is you there is scenery.

Grandma, who is already old, is no longer as strong as she was when she was young, but her pace is still so strong. Although her hair is already gray, her spirit is still so energetic.

That evening, when the sun was still setting, I accompanied you out for a walk, and the setting sun shone on your silver-white hair, which was dyed a golden color. You looked at the setting sun, could not help but marvel at: "The setting sun is infinitely good, just near dusk." We also looked at the setting sun, said: "Not old, not old, life than South Mountain!" You, however, said, "No, no, it should be old and strong!" I laughed, and Grandma added, "Son, don't use words carelessly, or you'll get into big trouble." Grandma with you comes the beauty of poetry. Where there is you there is the cultural landscape of the past and present.

That day the school asked each person to bring a traditional culture of Chinese art - paper cutting. But I don't know how, so I asked my grandmother to teach. I came home and shouted, "Grandma, Grandma." You came out with a smile and said, "What's wrong?" I told you what happened. You said, "Paper cutting is a traditional culture of the Chinese people, so you have to pay attention to the techniques, folding the paper, and aligning the lines, all of which must be done with care." With that, you started to do it, and you were so skillful. You were so skillful. You folded the paper, matched the lines, and made small holes. Under your hands, a piece of colorful and various paper cuttings came out. The next day, I took my work to school and won first place in my age group. You have traditional culture wherever you are, and there is a beautiful landscape wherever you are.

Over the wheat, we took a vacation, back to the old home, I felt the wind blowing the wheat waves, the golden wave rises. I saw my grandmother in the field, and you called me over to help me go to work, and I did a day's work in the wheat field, picking up wheat stalks, picking up wheat ears, and loading wheat grains. After a busy day, grandma came home and said to me, "Doing anything is not as easy as you think, you have to learn to economize, because because "Hoeing is not as easy as it seems, sweating is not as easy as it seems"." There is a landscape of saving where you are.

Everywhere you are, everywhere you are, there is a landscape where you are.

There is a landscape where you are first year essay 2

At dawn, the morning sun in the distant mountains weaved a white veil that appeared from time to time. I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to do that, but I'm going to be able to do it," he said.

At this moment, the mottled yellow leaves all over the ground peacefully laid out in the fall. A volume of mountain mist lightly flicked past, startled a withered yellow, causing this group of elves like a winged butterfly limp dance at my feet, each rotation is exquisite. The first thing you need to do is to get your hands dirty.

The hundred souls are calling and turning, and the crickets playing cello in the grass and leaves are catering to each other, composing a magnificent chapter of autumn. Although people often say, "Silence is like a cicada", but at this time resting on the branches of the cicadas also open and close the reddish-brown transparent wings, and gladly joined this grand concert.

A fern blend of barrier, a river into the eyes. A flow of arashi floated past, mixed with the fragrance of flowers and leaves and soil, rippled a few ripples on the river. Abruptly, a fish jumped out of the water, set off a few white waves, its crystal scales in the sunlight glittering.

A stone bridge overlooking the long eastward flowing river. It is mottled when the bridge has climbed full of moss, but no matter how baptized by the wasted years, it is still as tough as ever. The color of the water is dissolving, the shadow of the trees is hazy, only this bridge is unchanged. At the end of the bridge is a vermilion pavilion. It is like a speechless poet, gazing quietly into the distance. A thousand years ago, a certain dynasty, whether it was also a song curl?

There is no harm in putting down the hands of the pen, close the textbook, so that the years of urgency to pass a little slower, so that the impatience of the heart to fade away the red dust, so that the natural scenery cleansing, why not a beauty?

There is a landscape where you are

The stars will fall, the orbit will migrate. Maybe I will never see you again, but that one Zijinhua is still blooming in my memory, so that I will not forget, where there is you, the scenery is unique.

The winter sunshine sprinkled with snow-covered earth, extraordinarily soft. The road after the snow is still full of mud. It was on such a snowy post-snowy day that I met you for a walk in the park.

"Soon here, it must be spring water born, spring forests out of bloom, spring breeze, a new atmosphere of spring, birds and flowers!" You said happily. Yes, winter is coming, spring will be far away?

We continued to stroll through the beautiful park. You suddenly ran wildly ahead, as if you had discovered a new continent, and were very surprised. I followed up, oh, the original is a white plum flower ah. This flower white deep, weathered, but there is a pungent fragrance.

"Our friendship is also as fragrant as plum blossoms!" This warm words came to my ears, making my heart surge a warm current for a long time.

Lovely you, with a childish voice, said the words of truth, let my heart get warm. Yes, we have studied together, played together, and spent every day together with pleasure. When I was happy, you and I laughed together; when in trouble, you and I faced together. You are both my fruit of happiness and my relief grass. The first thing you need to do is to get your hands dirty.

However, we are not studying in the same school now, and rarely have the opportunity to meet. Peach Blossom Pond is a thousand feet deep, our friendship is very "gold" and very deep, but no matter how many sunrises and sunsets, spring and autumn, I believe that our friendship will never disappear.

海内存知己知己, 天天若涯如比邻. Taste the mellow flavor of the years, there is a landscape where you are.

Where there is you, there is scenery first year essay 4

Borrowing the swing of the reeds, I came to know you ......

You fly freely, the reeds also follow the dance, as if everything is also given new life by you.

The cool autumn wind blew, "rustle ......", a moment of tight and a moment of slowness, blowing that lake ripples. That lake next to a thatched cottage seems to be no spring that vibrant. However, the autumn wind is still blowing, the reeds are still swaying, swaying reeds, fluttering gray flakes. Autumn wind blowing, blowing change the reeds, I do not know from when, the green reeds gradually turned yellow, slowly dry; dry reed leaves may have been blown by the autumn wind down low ......

Vegetarian autumn, the reeds are poignant, the wind is diffuse, the scenery is but pleasant.

And then after a period of time, the cold gradually thick, the lake has a thin layer of ice, crystal clear, look carefully, as if there are reeds in the ice in the sway. The winter wind is getting tighter and tighter, the reeds curled up, as if in the warmth. The ice under the water grows silently downward, the ice is more and more thick, the reeds in the ice is like an ink painting.

Clear winter, the reeds are lonely, the wind is reckless, the landscape is poetic.

The wind gradually warmed up, clear early, a wind came, to the lake covered with a layer of hazy veil, but the reeds drew new tender green shoots. The lake slowly thawed, tender green reeds, tender red flowers ...... everything is so vibrant, full of vitality. Early spring, a go out with with the breeze hit a full embrace, folded a branch of reeds, tender green flakes in my head, face, around the fly scattered, so refreshing!

Yangchun, the reeds are jumping, the wind is free, the landscape is colorful.

In summer, the lush shade of the reeds grow all over the water, the whole lake into a green sea. When the breeze blows, the green waves ripple, mesmerizing.

In the long summer, the reeds are passionate, the wind is unrestrained, and the landscape is warm.

You inserted the wings of freedom to be enough to fly; you defy the world's restraints to be enough to harness nature. Your unrestrained, your freedom, your gentleness, your passion, you let everything have a different posture because of you, with you, I am full of scenery.

Look, the wind is picking up ......

Where there is you there is scenery first year essay 5

In the evening, the setting sun dyed the sky red, a changing cloud gently drifting past, I sat on the balcony, holding a book in my hand, reading carefully, suddenly out of the corner of my eye unintentionally glanced at you sitting on the sofa looking at the sofa, I can't help but think that you're a good person, and I'm not sure if you are. I can't help but think of that scene in my mind.

Monday morning, because I got up late, hurriedly wash up after rushing out of the house. But because I was in such a hurry, I didn't realize that I had forgotten my keys. After a day of study, full of fatigue to walk home, full of brains are filled with ABCD and math, at this time I can not wait to collapse in my beloved bed, think of this, I accelerated the pace again.

Finally I arrived at the door, as if in the darkness all of a sudden found the light, I habitually unzipped the zipper to get the key, but found that the compartment is empty. I panicked at once, turned my bag upside down, the key never appeared, and that scattered a corridor of books and test papers in disarray, as if mocking me in general.

I sat in front of my house, full of despair, and slowly packed my bag, looking up at the floor. Not long after, my stomach made a grumbling protest. I fought back my hunger and pulled out a book to read.

After half an hour, the elevator dinged. I instantly came back to my senses, looked up and fixed my eyes on you, I got up in a hurry, puffed the dust on my body, and walked to you. "You, aren't you working late?" You opened your mouth to fight shouting, "I am to work overtime ah, you did not call me tonight I worried to death, what's wrong with you ah you." "I, I left the house in a hurry and forgot my keys." I whispered, feeling aggrieved. After hearing my words, you froze for a moment. Air raised a high hand and gently patted it on my hand, "Are you tired, are you hungry." You asked with concern. Listening to your gentle voice, I am very guilty, obviously I am not good, causing you to leave work early and forget to call you, causing you to worry.

I looked up and saw that your head was covered with beads of sweat. A look of exhaustion. At this point, my tears flowed down. Thank you for having you in your life. --My mom, in my world, with you, there is scenery.

Where there is you, there is scenery first year essay 6

The early morning sunlight is silky, through the layers of leaves gap, leaving a speckled halo on the body. Walking on the muddy path to my grandmother's house, the breeze, mixed with the scent of earth and the fresh scent of various flowers, wet on my cheeks.

In September, the weather gradually turned cooler, and after a few autumn rains, the temperature rose again. In the afternoon, the sun's rays fall down obliquely, without the summer's poisonous, shining on the body warm, the breeze blew, rolled up a piece of fallen leaves fluttering, indeed, some of the meaning of the fall.

Grandma took the needle and thread, cotton and fabric and sat down under the laurel tree in front of the door. There are already one or two small flowers on the tree, just shyly hiding behind the leaves, quietly poking their heads out, but there has been the fragrance of flowers in the surrounding atmosphere. Grandma has begun to give me winter wear cotton clothes, she is always early to prepare, so that I can in the winter when the cold can be timely. Grandma look solemn and solemn, as if to do a big thing, eyebrows slightly knit up, driving the wrinkles on the face, from time to time to lift a lift the old glasses, then rushed to sewing, the corner of the mouth still embedded in a smile.

Grandma over the years, the hand has been less obedient, some trembling, but the work is not bad at all, the needle flat foot dense. The green trees, the golden glow, and the elderly but concentrated on sewing clothes grandmother, converged into a beautiful landscape.

A golden moon hung in the deep blue sky, and the stars hid and played among the clouds. The moonlight shone on the house, casting a white veil over the red-brick and green-tiled house, passing through the shadows of the trees and jumping on the transparent windows.

Grandma is an old scholar, pay special attention to my education, every night to tell me a meaningful story, her calloused fingertips stroked my cheeks, with a slight itch. Grandma's soft but slightly raspy voice, along with the bright moonlight accompanied me to dream.

Grandma's hand is rough but warm, just like the sunshine of autumn, light and gentle.

There is scenery where you are First Year Essay 7

You are a round of brightness in the sky, a bend of jasper on the water surface, a piece of silver dew on the ground, and a quiet landscape. You are the curved moon in the sky, the only scenery on the dark night sky.

The moon's shadow is dappled under the tree. I like the moon very much, because it always brings me a lot of beautiful fantasy, but also because it comes with its own "protagonist aura", so that the dark horror of the night has a quiet, sweet flavor. Every night traveling, always pay attention to the tree under the patch of moonlight, like the moon thrown from high in the sky, broken all over the place, this time will always be poetic, but the feeling can not be described in words, and want to chant "pack a piece of moonlight back, in the book." Such a beautiful poem, but I'm afraid to disturb the silence, only left to stop and watch, full of emotion of the figure. You are high and far away, leaving people with the hopelessness of unattainable, you are kind and quiet, giving people a feeling of closeness. You left me under the tree full of broken scenery, let me stay.

Underwater moon shadow like jade. You are a generous moon, your shadow sprinkled in the ancient and modern, I always want to sing your praises, but because of the former "quiet shadow sinking jade", so I dare not presume to put pen to paper, fear of poor literary talent, but I also agree with the ancients. Your light shadow sinks into the water, like a piece of jasper, white, crystal, delicate, dignified, elegant. In the calm water, reflecting your perfect arc, comparable to the year "He's", when up to fifteen cities. Slightly whisked a breeze in the evening, in the water is the "floating light jumping gold" of the great view also. You reflect a piece of jasper in the water, leaving me a rounded and crystalline landscape for me to savor.

The moon shadow under the window into the yarn. You only leave people distant thoughts, how many ancient and modern migrants, more than defeated in you, to you express the inner melancholy. And now I also want to send sadness to you, with the deceased until the other country. I want to pity those ancient and modern women, only through the moon and poetry, more three cups of candle wine or add a heart of sadness to send thoughts, but the moon ah, you this courier brother when you can deliver this distant nostalgia on time it? You walk in the sky, leaving a thick sadness that makes me sad.

A round of curved moon in the sky, you smile; a moon shadow underwater, you listen; wandering in his hometown, you think about ......

There is a scenery where there is you First Year Essay 8

You and I have different temperaments, different personalities, and different preferences, but we have become the best girlfriends. I changed you, you changed me, it is all in the process of getting along with the subtle changes.

Elementary school you like to wear clothes and shoes made by grandma, winter flower jacket, not special, just pink flower jacket with a few flowers, thick cotton shoes are both comfortable and warm. In spring, the shirt with flowers, with a pair of white square canvas jacket, is also unique. In summer, when it is the hottest time, your grandma will make different tops and shorts so that you can wear something different every day.

Now you wear fashionable clothes, standing there in the pavilion, is a beautiful scenery.

I remember in fourth grade, we went out to play together, a group of people around there, you also want to go over, but I do not like crowded places. I did not expect to start sending toys, you defiantly rushed into the crowd, I have long been accustomed to such a you, I'm well-behaved to stand in place and wait for you. As expected, a moment, you rushed out of the crowd, gave me a small box, turned around and rushed into the crowd, I do not know what you and what to do, the parents are also blind to see the stage in front of the lively crowd, I seem to have some yearning, but I still

Behave yourself and stand and wait for you. I asked you what you were doing, and you tried to grab me another one and took your hand out from behind your back, and an identical box of dirt lay in your hand.

And that time, we went to sell books and newspapers together, and your classmates also went. Newspapers were sold out quickly, and then began to sell books, books were provided by your classmates, there are all ages, young children's especially. We sold the first book with the same effort from ****, and it went better and better from there. It was hard for me to dare myself to go up to the front and recommend it to people. A kind aunt bought a book for 3~6 years old, and I happily took the book to the aunt, who gave me two dollars. Finally your classmate came to us for the money, she said the book was hers and she should give her the money, I was obedient and just wanted to take the money out, Sis Qiang stopped me and argued with her. In the end, we did not give her the money.

With your place is a landscape.

There is a landscape where you are First Year Essay 9

The tassels fall red, put into the embrace of the summer night, transformed into a platform for the lush grass insects, and transformed into a new generation of sustenance.

Summer, is in the prime of the clump of flowers, on the roughness of the green leaves, showing the beauty of the rhyme Hua youth. The lack of beauty, it seems to be people's eyes piece of fallen flowers, dirty stained with dirt, stained with footprints, really can not match this wonderland. So, people don't care about you, cleaning you, desperately want to let your figure with the wind away.

But the insects love you, and you are happy to transform yourself into their paradise. With their presence, it seems to be in the midst of suffering, more than a touch of sweetness. Professional singers, strumming the soft strings, and should be confused with the night sky, playing the bright full moon's praise. There are hard-working pilots, in your body sweet drowsiness, you gently hooked up a corner, for it to block a touch of night wind, to this environment, you are intoxicated. Disorientation of the night sky, hooked a golden sailboat, wisps of breeze, light fog, leaving people's admiration, detached from life, but more beautiful. You, with a lightness, the love of insects, you rejoice, for the little responsibility that can be done, happy.

The flowers love you, the land loves you. When you throw yourself into its embrace, what you bring, is an abundance. You, the land's sustenance, pillow thick daylight, hidden Yu soil depths. In the ground, aiding those delicate, dusty cheeks, like the rural people, rough appearance, but has a genuine, with their own bodies, for the body, to add a luster. No wonder, Gong Zizhen had the sentence: "Falling red is not a heartless thing, turned into spring mud to protect the flowers." The sentiment.

Yes, you have been a flower of a plant, with the ability to enjoy the sunrise. It is some ulterior reason that you gave up this one full of light ` lifetime. When you were needed, you silently separated from the being, took a last look at your homeland, and walked as a fallen flower, with more than a touch of aloofness, responsibility, and dedication in this path of no return. Secretly, behind the scenes, doing the little things needed, that landscape, the most beautiful.

In the land, a piece of falling red, is facing the daylight, silently hidden. You, then, became a landscape.

Where there is you, there is scenery first year essay 10

The scenery is everywhere, but where there is you the scenery is unique. My father is a unique landscape in my life.

When I was a child, my father was a hard-working cab driver. Because my mother often had to work at the drugstore and was quite busy, picking me up and dropping me off at school, buying me clothes, cooking for me, and teaching me to do my homework, all of these big and small things were all wrapped up in my father. Therefore, since I was a child, my father has always been the image of a big mountain in my mind. What my father carries on his back is as tall and big as a big mountain, and my mother and I are like the forest on the mountain, relying on the mountain to grow.

When I was a child after school, my father was worried that I was not safe at home alone. So often take me to work in the car, pulling people, sending people, the cycle is repeated, in the cab, although I can not go out, but I look out the window, look out the window, it is also very beautiful. Looking back to my father, the setting sun on his face, my father squinted at the front, this time the "mountain" around the sun, the scenery is unique.

My father is not only a kind person, or a strict and humorous person, speaking of which, I now this acute or hereditary him! I remember when I was a child, my father taught me to write homework, I write slowly, the word is not good, my father that acute that bad temper all of a sudden pulled out, three or two on me to wail, this "mountain" around the pouring rain, this sapling blow me to the east and west, but I do not know why, my father scolded scolding on the But for some reason, my father scolded and scolded and laughed, perhaps because my poor little expression laughed at him, so my father began to coax me. At this time, the "mountain" around the cloud has changed from cloudy to sunny, but also revealed the beautiful rainbow, can be said to be after the storm to see the rainbow. But I have to say, my father's degree of humor in my heart can be said to be among the best.

Growing up in my father's care, my mood is always changing, sometimes happy, sometimes sad, sometimes nervous. The uniqueness of this landscape in my heart lies in the fact that our hearts are always connected, our moods are all about another person, and affection is always there.

Where there is a father, there is a "landscape", and the landscape is unique.

The first year essay 11

The quality of humility in your body has become the most beautiful scenery here, so that I dare not be proud again.

English reading you are how to do ah?" Under the awards podium, you still ask the English bully for learning methods. English? This is not simple. With this in mind, you hear him explaining her methods to you as well. Your focused gaze is on her, looking very respectful and studious.

Who would tell you a method that really works? I'm skeptical like this while listening sideways, trying to corroborate my point of view. If you think both options are right at this point, then you need to analyze why this is right and why that is right," you said with a thoughtful hmmm.

That seems to make some sense.

You're both very humble indeed.

Your figure in my line of sight gradually blurred, what she said I can not hear, can only see her serious figure constantly sitting gestures, focused on your occasional nod I actually started to stay. I used to be not very proud, and the gap between them is so big, and even I have some misunderstanding you. This beautiful scenery, touched me, infected me.

After asking, if you are enlightened, and go to ask the language, math, they all tell you their unique skills, experience.

Then you asked me again, and I told you without reservation, just because of your humility heartfelt appreciation and praise.

Of course, you also told me about your own experience. I realized that, originally, there will be such a beautiful landscape on earth, always ask others for advice with a humble heart, and always tell others what they know without reservation. Perhaps, it is because you have a beautiful dream, it needs you to work hard to realize, so you choose to be humble.

Later I asked you, "What's your grade number?"

Sixth."

The fuller the ears, the lower the head. The sixth good grades are not overly proud of themselves, but also maintain the quality of humility, which is how many people want to do but can not do, and how many people do not want to do. In the world of pursuing dreams, there is always something called good that grows in the shadows, and it is called humility. I see it in you, in my eyes, it is like a landscape, without any rendering of the landscape, but with a simple and moving beauty.

There is a landscape where there is you First Year Essay 12

A beautiful life is like a beautiful landscape, and you are the most beautiful landscape in my heart.

--Title

A cordial greeting is a landscape, a warm embrace is a landscape, there are landscapes everywhere, and there are landscapes where there is you in my eyes.

For others, a teacher is an ordinary person who teaches knowledge, but for me, a teacher is not only a person who teaches knowledge, but also a listener of my heart. When I was in the sixth grade, my writing was not very good, so my teacher came to me in the classroom every day after class to help me write my essay. My teacher told me, "There are many ways to write an essay. You can use an epistolary style on the same topic as well as subheadings, etc." I followed the teacher's method, but the content was still not detailed enough, and the teacher told me to use rhetorical devices for description. Since then my writing has improved and I am very happy.

Once I lost my favorite pen, I was very sad because it was from my friend in the fourth grade. The teacher saw me listless in class and said to me after class, "What's wrong with you? Is there something on your mind? You can tell me and I'll share it with you." "My favorite pen is missing." With that I burst into tears. The teacher said, "When did you realize it was gone? Where is it missing? Let me help you look for it." I told the teacher the time and place, Mr. He helped me look for it for one class but couldn't find it, so he told me, "It's all right, the teacher also has a pen here, it's also my favorite, he was given to me by my elementary school classmate, now I'm giving it to you." I accepted the pen from my teacher and was very grateful to him. The teacher said to me, "In the future, if you have any difficulties or any form, you can look for the teacher, the teacher will always be your most faithful listener and your substitute." "Uh-huh," I nodded. In the future, every time I have something on my mind or encounter any difficulties to tell the teacher, the teacher every time to help me solve the problem, share the form, the teacher thank you can be my most faithful listener.

Now I'm in middle school, although this school is very beautiful, but I will never forget the time with the teacher.

Teacher, you are the most beautiful scenery in my heart, where there is you there is scenery.