I love my hometown Fushan Essay no less than 600 words

My hometown is a small and insignificant village. It doesn't have the bustle and noise of the city, the skyscrapers and beautiful neon lights that people look up to, or the traffic lights that indicate the passage of vehicles. But there is a let everyone enjoy the happiness and sweetness.

Whenever the spring flowers on the ridges of the fields opened up in clusters, and the willows in the village sprouted, we ran like pigeons in flight in the vast and boundless fields, or lay down on the soft ground, watched the swallows return, listened to the birds singing, and the shouts of the wheat seedlings pulling up the knots in our ears. In the fields, ridge after ridge, there were happy conversations and the sound of the hoe touching the ground. We were wild, and from time to time, the adults would kindly call out "slow down, don't hurt the grass".

Summer solstice, the scent of the acacia drifted throughout the village, every acacia tree under the ripples of our crisp laughter. Cicadas chirping and frogs barking incessantly, an unknown dog spitting tongue, squatting in the master's door, even strangers passing by is not lazy to bark. At night, the robins rested, the dogs slept, and only the frogs chirped tirelessly. Adults came out of their houses in twos and threes, shaking bushels of fans and forming piles to talk and laugh, and we children, not wanting to be lonely, spread a cool mat and lay on it to count the stars, to compare which star was the brightest, and to tell fairy tales in turn. Until the adults were sleepy and called us to go home together, our story was over.

Autumn is the busiest season of the year, every spike is heavy, the wind blows, everywhere is the sound of laughter. The roar of the machine, the sound of grain jumping on the machine, the children's shouts, mixed together. The sound of the children's voices was mixed with the sound of the children's voices.

Winter is here, snowflakes came, flat streets and alleys, staggered roofs, uneven tree branches are all covered in silver. At this time, we are more excited, like the adults are sweeping and gathered, a pile of snow or into a strange shape of the snowman, or into a formidable Spider-Man, or into a large snowball rolling around on the ground. At this time, you will think that the winter here is more beautiful.

I love my hometown, where I go to school and go home with my friends, and my parents love me, is my cradle full of memories.