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Winter Excellent Essay
In ordinary study, work and life, when it comes to essay writing, we must not be unfamiliar with it, essay writing is a style of writing consisting of words, considered by the human mind, and organized through language to express the significance of a topic. Do you know how to write an essay in a standardized way? The following is my excellent winter essay, only for reference, welcome to read.
"This winter, because of the words and warmth" This is the city's well-known writer Li Aixia in the "Ankang people weekend reading" on a sentence of the opening statement, the words did not fall, the applause of a piece. Hearing this, such as a warm current instantly flow throughout the body, warm people's hearts. Every weekend, the city library is packed with bibliophiles who gather to read Mr. Li's new work, Flowers in Flight. A little attention, the recent WeChat, microblogging, online media, "flowers in flight" has become a hot topic, and continues to heat up. Numerous book fans, literary friends rush to read, taste, appreciate this masterpiece. A piece of literary criticism, reading notes, insights, fresh out of the oven, have exchanged on the network, share, spread. So, this winter, "flowers in flight" has become my confidant, that a grain of text inculcation, a wisp of ink mist, let me feel a warmth, enjoy a kind of happiness.
Following the "plum not bitter" poetry collection published and distributed, after five years, Li Aixia teacher's second literary monograph "flowers in the flight" stunning appearance. As the writer teasingly said, "I am a senior maternity, October pregnancy, a delivery, the birth of a new work". Once the work was released, immediately stirred the literary world of Ankang, causing a stir, set off a new reading craze. Read this work, she is like a "chicken soup for the soul", is a little bit into the reader's heart, moist readers' lungs, and readers to produce intersection, triggering **** Ming. Let a person clear, gradual realization, deep thought. I have the honor to get a new book autographed by the author, such as a treasure, doubly cherished. Often placed on the desk, the pillow, a free moment, will be hungry, savoring a little bit of reading, even if only read a few lines, a fragment, there will be gained, there are also new discoveries. Read and read, have a desire to stop, love the feeling. Gradually, I was inseparable from her words like a shadow. In this way, I read Flower on the Fly, Flower on the Fly accompanied me, and we spent day after day.
I am a lazy person, read very few books. Even if sometimes on a whim, take a book to read, but also swallowed in one gulp, walk through the flowers. But somehow, "flowers in flight" and I met as if it were, tethered to stay, so I can be quiet, full of interest, page by page, even I am confused. Undoubtedly, this work has been praised by the seniors in the literary world, recognized by the majority of readers, deserves to be a superior masterpiece. Some time ago, I carefully read the first two chapters of Flowers in Flight ("Education" and "Life"), more than forty pieces of work, the articles are simple feelings, plain language, light ink and light language, very grounded. The author's loyalty to education and his interpretation of life can be seen in the smallest details. I realized the connotation of "every blade of grass will blossom", and I understood that "kindness and innocence" is the tone of life. Next, I browsed through the group of works of "Friends and Family Strings", in which those words bathed in true love can always stir my heartstrings, and those words soaked with strong feelings will always touch my memories and make me sigh. Especially the author of several essays in memory of his mother, words and phrases touching, tearful, so that people are moved, weeping. Read read, my tears in the eye circle spinning, can not help but think of my deceased mother, father, dusty memories are a little bit torn open, the heart of a kind of inexplicable hidden pain in the quiet spread ...... Close the book, but also still can not calm the mood of excitement. This is the intersection of emotions, thoughts **** Ming, the charm of the text. At this time, the warmth of a mother's love, the depth of a father's love, such as a touch of warm sun in the winter, the most colorful, the warmest, the most cozy. In this way, hand holding "flowers in flight", read a beautiful article, gradually feel that a text like a leaping note, not only beautiful, beautiful, and exudes a warm glow, flying into my heart, warm my lungs. In this way, in winter, I found warmth in the words, savoring the most precious thing in the world. This winter, because the words and warm, just like a most beautiful "warm winter" ah.
Now, I've been with the Flower in Flight for nearly two months, and I'm ashamed to say that I haven't finished reading it yet, and I don't know it well enough to know it by heart, and my knowledge is still very shallow and tender. I hate my own writing is too shallow, can not write a tasteful after reading, often hastily put aside, ashamed of the work, no face to see the author. But I think: read a hundred times, the meaning of the self. As long as I read with all my heart, to taste, to realize. Perhaps, I will have some gradual realization, some discovery. Now, I brought the "flowers in flight" to school, put on the desk, read when I have time. Colleagues see me read seriously, joked: Li Aixia hardcore fans. I laughed and said: super fan. Yes, fans or fans, as long as it is a good book, good works, will have millions of readers, will have a group of loyal fans. Because, reading has become a trend, a fashion. We are a bookish society, bookish Ankang, bookish campus!
Looking at the table "flowers in flight", I can not restrain the excitement of the heart, wrote this paragraph of the youthful text ...... I want to say: this winter, reading Li Aixia's words, warm. Have "Flowers in Flight", happiness.
Excellent winter essay 2November, it should be fall, at least, in my hometown is. The sky is pale white and quiet, reflecting the joys and sorrows of a season, and the occasional wind gently lifts the curtain of memories, pulling down a large number of long-lasting feelings. Even if the heart is blunt like me, but also love this wonderful time.
Another November, I used to look up at the sky, wanting to catch the tail of a streaming cloud with my eyes as I did before, and asked it to send me a blessing - the people far away, I'm with you. But as far as I can see, it's no longer the same sky as before, and I can't find a single familiar cloud. Yes, I left, even if it is the same month, but not the same scenery.
I don't know if November in Shanghai is autumn, but I don't want to call it autumn, no reason, just a kind of obsession with memory. Perhaps years later, when I am in a strange place, I will also miss the fall of Shanghai. No snow, not winter. So, I would say, November, when winter is coming.
Walking in the cold winds of Shanghai, imagining the scene when the snow falls, I unconsciously thought of the poem of Ximurong. She was also a student in a different country, even a foreign country. Here and now, I should be immersed in an atmosphere of nostalgia and sadness, I should think of her "Ballad of the Great Wall", "Out of the Seaside" or "Foreign Land", but none of them, all of a sudden, in my mind, it is the "Twilight Song", and it is clear and crisp.
On second thought, how obvious it is again. Winter, the end of the year, and now, then, the very moment when it will be twilight. Although not all the colors have fallen silent around me, and not all have calmed down, for any sensitive heart, when winter is about to come, everything will be different. Doesn't it? Every time the wind picks up, in addition to naturally feeling slightly cooler, it's easier to think of the warm, brisk willow breeze, followed by the fragrant shelf of roses in the corner, and then the wind picks up and jolts you awake from the seasonal memories. When winter comes, it's a good time to look back, and indeed, we do so all the time.
It is a marvelous thing about human emotion, that every recollection, always unanticipated and mostly fleeting, leaves a faint sense of disappointment, but let us bend our heads and thank our Creator for this brief moment, from which our expectations and hopes, ah, originate. Dante sang loudly under the white sunlight, he must have captured a touch of gold in between; Liu Zongyuan looked at the cold river alone, he must have felt the water flowing under the ice. Nothing else, at that moment, they all remember what once existed to touch their souls, so they can see what ordinary people can not.
Zhang Xiaofeng said: "Life is a big encounter". In this only one life, full of countless unknown encounters. Just as there are no two leaves exactly the same in the world, there will not be exactly the same life, each of us, are independent of the individual outside the beings. It is precisely for this reason that we have different experiences, and naturally have memories that are worth living once. I believe that there must be countless people, with memories to nourish their souls, so that they do not get lost in the winding road of life. The power of memories is not a simple description can be explained, only their own can feel, perhaps, this is also a kind of unspeakable realm.
Every time I read someone's memoirs, I always have a reverent and solemn mood. Because I know that a life, the nature of the same as mine, is dissipating in a way that I can not feel, or, has passed away. And before me is their long life. When they were born as a summer flower, I had not known such a life existed. And when their life will be twilight yet, I suddenly in the posture of a viewer, intruded into their life. Every little bit, joy and sorrow, are like shells, sun on the coast of my soul, I pick up with my left hand, right hand wipe, with a kind of submerged in the stance of the end of the condensation will be included one by one, and then with my whole life to experience, to penetrate, for the soul to increase the weight.
Perhaps, when my life into the twilight stage, when all the stories related to me have been molded, I will naturally look back to the road.
I think, from now on, I will not only love that swinging love like a line of spring, pomegranate blossoms shine like fire in the summer, rain hit the remnants of the lotus as a dream of the autumn, snow fall quiet as a poem of winter, in the wilderness of time, there are bound to be a lot of will be twilight not twilight of the time, so that I can look back to the path with a smile, that the pale horizontal cuiwei will be injected into my soul a new force, I can therefore be fearless and fearless to meet the far future.
When winter is coming, the wind is cold and the dew is cool, but I am still willing to stand in the wind at night and sing a song in the twilight, and if I have to be asked again why, I will smile and not say anything.
Excellent Winter Essay 3We are all wearing thick cotton coats, and some trees have lost all their leaves! You see, this is winter!
A tree that has lost all its leaves can't be called ugly, but it's always a pity when it lacks the grace of its branches and leaves, and lays bare the great emptiness between branch and branch. From time to time I have an urge to put something between the branches and the twigs in winter. I love to make everything from nothing. It's exciting.
Isn't it true that winter is always so sparse, and is that the real reason for our lack of joy in winter? It's as if the trees have stopped growing, and we always go through winter with a sense of waiting for something to make us happy if it snows, and the jade trees, and the eaves dangling with ice cream. Without the shade of the trees, I was a little weak, feeling that the toilet had no walls. The sound of geese is far away. I feel sorry for the winter sun on the earth, for, if the sun's splendor and warmth do not shine on the red flowers and green leaves, does not the sunshine amount to wasted years. Just as we stand idly by, waiting for darkness before a pile of red-hot coals.
Yet some birds landed on the trees, big and small, colorful. It was as if I saw trees full of flowers!
Sometimes the birds came and went in flocks, the black swarms were pachyderms or crows, and the sparrows in winter liked to fly in flocks and land in groups on the bare branches. The black flocks will decorate a tree and a grove of trees in an instant. Pigeons fly this way too, and if a flock of white pigeons landed on a branch, it was as if a magnolia bloomed in early spring, white with richness and grace. The birds squawked and cried and made a lot of noise. Sometimes, three or five, they scattered on the sparse branches. I think these three or five birds, they each have their own preoccupations, talking less and not talking more. Some fly away, some stay. Sometimes just one, one or the other. A bird, alone in the thin branches of the tree, which makes people remember the flowers on the tree, but also the first to open a flower, and then open a large one.
Whenever I see a tree full of birds, I stop and look. The trees look so alive with birds. I love these little birds that fly from tree to tree and dance on the branches. The winter wind is also subtle and elastic because of the jumping of these little birds. They sing on the branches, and the song of one bird makes the winter on the trees free from the cold stagnation. The song of the crows is stout and careless, and the sparrows make winter without order. Sometimes a bird sings alone with a euphonious song, finely shivering and glowing. It was like a person who recalls love sipping spring tea in winter. That is wonderful.
A bird on a branch is more beautiful than a real flower. Have you ever seen a flower bloom from spring to winter? Have you ever seen a flower on a tree flying from branch to branch? Have you ever seen a flower that sings? It is a bird recreating the life of winter.
The bird is the flower of the tree, as someone must have discovered and said before. Something so beautiful would not wait until today for someone to be surprised. I stood beneath the trees, and what I wanted to do, the birds did for me; they literally opened flowers, rehearsed dances, and played music from branch to branch in winter.
In fact, the birds have always been in the trees, in the trees in the spring, in the trees in the summer, in the trees in the fall. It's just that we see more of the beauty of life in the trees because of the real flowers and the swaying of the branches and leaves. And therefore the birds in the trees are neglected. I say, throughout the year, the birds are never the flowers on the trees. They hide among the leaves, dance with the green leaves, sing with the spring breeze, the cicadas in summer are set in tune by a single bird, and the night moon in fall is sliced open by a single bird song. Trees were meant to be the home of birds.
A kingfisher lives on a shrub near a pond, its bright green feathers more colorful than the dark or light green leaves, and we recognize the kingfisher's flower in the foliage at a glance. Two orioles can make a willow tree more graceful. I think Du Fu was pining for his hometown in the beautiful city of Jincheng in those days, and "two orioles singing in the green willow", he only heard a euphonious bird's song, and remembered Jiangnan. In February in Jiangnan, which tree does not have the oriole's song and dance? Regardless of whether there are flowers on the trees, orioles will always land in February in Jiangnan. When there are flowers on the tree, the bird will also land on it. The icing on the cake is not repetition, it is more beauty. How about magpies stepping on plum blossoms? All the joy of the countryside is in a brilliant tree of plum blossoms. Magpies always fly in twos and twos, and dance and sing in twos and twos. Magpies are the flowers that bloom in the countryside.
I love the egrets in the summer, they live in the woods by the river at the head of the village all summer long, when the egrets return from the turquoise paddy fields, they all fall to the treetops, and from a distance, it is a tree of the most romantic flowers. The most unforgettable thing was the moonlit nights in the village, the egrets were perched on that maple tree, the night wind blew the leaves of the tree, and the moonlight would shake the egrets up and down on the branches, flipping their long wings. I sometimes recall my childhood, the maple tree at the head of the village would surely appear, and so would the egrets on the tree.
Do we learn from a bird while we appreciate it? I was more or less ashamed while watching a tree of birds. My face blushed like a peach blossom in spring. I know that sometimes a bird's beak is also red.
Excellent Winter Essay 4Winter has quietly climbed the treetops, the winter sunlight shines on the dry branches, this sunshine makes winter seem to be particularly kind, particularly warm, while I invariably feel that this winter is not winter, is winter in winter, but finally realized with a jolt: the winter is itself, itself is winter; it is the `picture' of the season, it is the season brought by the touching The cold.
The stars are turning, time flies, the life in the school more and more seems to withstand the passage of time, as if fleeting, and the heart of the 18-year-old but also seems so fragile. In the winter, everything seems so helpless, so lonely.
I've always been afraid of the cold, and rightly so, I'm sick of the winter. I'm sick of the feeling that winter brings, sick of the yellow scene that winter gives to the earth, and also sick of winter in one day suddenly give the earth's wedding dress. Because I have always felt for some reason that the favorite snow-white and transparent wedding gown is filled with tears of angels, and that after wearing the wedding gown, it will eventually become a remnant of the human foot. When I think of this, I can't help but ask myself, "One day, when that snow-white wedding dress that belongs to you is placed in front of you, will you refuse to wear it?" Likewise, I can't help but say to myself, "Yes, I will wear it, even though I know that it will probably be a fag and a tear of real life when I put it on." The wedding dress of the winter earth and your own are two different moods. Perhaps it is the same picture, perhaps itself is also a landscape inside the earth wedding dress, perhaps they are one and the same, but is so different, so faraway mood ......
Walking on the asphalt road illuminated by the winter sun, the sea of people like a dragon, to and fro, but so what, they are just themselves, alone themselves, others can not replace the self. I'm not sure if you're going to be able to get a good deal on this. I've thought about it for a long time, I've suffered for a long time, I've been tired for a long time. Sitting in the pavilion by the roadside to rest, as if bathing in the sunshine. But his own winter has long blocked the winter sun outside the body, this is their own, sitting in the roadside pavilion of their own, but still their own?
The night has opened its arms to the earth, and likewise to itself, and put itself into the night, wanting to let the night gradually come to fill itself. Suddenly a burst of heart-breaking cool let the heart have a kind of heart-breaking pain, want to be kissed by the night to the earth to spread the rain, but found that the hope of falling rain has been shackled, the frozen earth does not seem to desire that this will be bitter rain, the earth has been wrapped up by the winter hard enough, do not want to put on a layer of ice again. How tempting it is to kiss the whole of creation, to reach out and caress them, only to realize that one's heat is limited and instead makes them colder, that's all one is.
Day after day, winter is refusing to fade away, the feeling of winter gradually make every part of the body has the same feeling - cold, empty, the mind is covered with a layer of winter hard ice, the sun can irradiate the whole earth, can melt all the snow and ice, but how to melt the mind covered with snow and ice. I hope the sun can, and even prefer to sit in the sun until the sun is hidden, but found that the heart of the ice is still.
"You decided not to think about other things, the pressure is not too much, as long as you decided and is sincerely hope that everything else is excluded from don't care, two years later, everything will be fine, two years after the brother graduated." Holding the microphone hand gradually softened, a speech heard me in tears, has not been able to go out of the winter but was warmed by tears so warm. I always thought it was winter that made me become a winter incidental, but now I realize that I made winter a different kind of winter, and also let love follow me into the winter. My brother's worry and care, my father's silence, my mother's advice, I put myself in the winter, but I didn't realize that I also brought my loved ones to the winter invisibly. I endured the cold, though I did not want to, but I let my loved ones suffer the cold with me as well. I was wrong, I really wasn't me, I was me, I was my parents' beloved daughter, I was my brother's only sister. I only put myself in the winter, but I didn't know that the moment I stood in the winter, my loved ones also stood in the winter sky with me, and even I created the winter cold for my loved ones. I was wrong to see only myself, my own life, my own ideal, my own future, while my loved ones were always watching me in their lives. I was wrong to say for myself what I have always said to: I was wrong, wrong to see only myself, wrong to have too much love for my relatives, wrong to not consider the situation I put my relatives in, wrong to say that I love you all so much as well. I was wrong, so I retreated, I gave up, the dream that I always chased, gave up on accomplishing it on campus, gave up on realizing it on campus. The love of my relatives was too heavy, my relatives were too important to me, I needed too much, I got lost in the chase, I let my relatives worry. Now, I'm back, back. Without the love of my loved ones, without the joy of my loved ones, without the happiness of my loved ones, I will end up with nothing. I am back, back from winter, back.
Lift love high, lift it to the sun, lift it to everyone, so that winter is no longer cold, so that everyone out of their own winter. Fly! Fly! Fly! Fly out of the cold winter scroll, fly to the winter sunshine bathed in love in the scroll! Winter is no longer themselves, they are no longer winter, but a bright ray of sunshine in winter!
Excellent winter essay 5Lift the curtains, a ray of sunshine reflected in the computer screen, last night may be too hard busy writing, actually do not feel the beauty of the window. As long as in the north, as long as you like winter, as long as you grow in the land of Benxi, you will find the hometown of winter is so charming.
Some people say that the South is very beautiful, it is rich and always deal with the sun. The flowers there are very beautiful, but gave me the feeling that is so weak, a gust of wind, his life will be eerily withered. The air was moist and dry at times, giving the impression of being so relentless. I hurriedly dressed ready to go outside to enjoy the beauty of the snow, Grandma in my ear nagging that so cold days out why? It's better to stay at home. I gave the excuse that I wanted to go out shopping and pushed the door open and walked out.
He was a man of the world, and he was a man of the world, and he was a man of the world! The first time I saw this was when I was a student at the University of California, Berkeley, and the University of California, Berkeley. The yard of the peach tree covered with the soft quilt woven by the snow, some of the waist of the thin and feeble branches are almost crushed by the snow. I don't know where the grasses have gone, but they have gone into hiding for fear of winter. The snow on the sky is not big, just scattered in groups of three to five fell on my hat. I put a handful of snow on my palm, it felt cold. Suddenly a strange thought drove me to put a little bit of snow in my mouth, I wanted to know what snow tastes like. It was so cold! It tasted the same as water, not much different from a ten cent piece of white sugar popsicle. When I walked out of the yard and around the road, I found many pedestrians arming themselves as "pandas" and "penguins". I don't want to be like them. I took my hat off and put it in my jacket pocket. A cold wind blew and made me shiver. I said forget it, in order to see the snow scene to eat a little bitter and what is it?
I continued to walk, pedestrians are also walking, the roadside I do not know which naughty children piled up the snowman in the sign to us: winter is our territory, please go around. I came closer and hit the snowman's head hard with my hand to scold him, but I laughed at the sight of him. The nose was made of half a carrot with a tip, and the eyes were set in glass balls by his owner. I suppose his owner was a sweet little fellow! I waited quietly for a while, and a chubby little girl with a little red bucket of scholastic material took little steps toward the snowman. It looked to be about five or six years old. I tried to go over and say hello, but she ignored me again.
So goodbye then, bidding them farewell and continuing on to the ruins on the edge of town, where there were very few people, mostly people who made their living by checking out the rags that were not quite in harmony with the city. I was very concerned about them, quietly took out the notebook in my pocket and wrote down those people who were busy making a living in the snow. Suddenly there was a barking sound in my ears, a cute golden fox dog climbed onto the garbage heap, followed by a hunchbacked old man with a dog skin hat. He had a dark, woven bag slung over his shoulder, and it looked like he'd had a good day's haul. He shooed the dog away and rummaged his withered tree-like hands through the garbage, finding a few bottles of wine humming a little song before putting them in the woven bag. Then he took his loot and disappeared into the mist formed by the snow. After crossing one street after another carpeted with snow, soft on my feet and feeling very comfortable in my heart, I suddenly remembered my grandmother waiting for me at home to come home. She said her favorite thing to eat in the winter is sugarplums, felt the pocket also has a block of eight cents, so accelerated the pace to the place where there are vendors.
I don't know what's wrong today, but in the past the market was full of people, and there was a long line of people buying food and going home to cook, and today it was probably cold, or they were afraid of the snow, and they all hid in their homes to enjoy the warmth and happiness. The place is empty, just when I was disappointed to go back, a "sell sugar gourd" called me back. Follow the sound of the call to go, a man pushing a candy cane car in the snow desperately struggling, out of a coin put in front of him, the man moves very quickly to pull out two strings of candy cane to me, and then continue to push the car away.
The snow is falling more and more big, the sight is everywhere goose feather size snowflakes; wind is also more and more blowing, the sky of a trace of warmth is surrounded by snow and wind; beams, poles, and headlights left on the snow on the brisk dance. Time is not early I should also go home, I reluctantly bid farewell to this beautiful unforgettable hometown of winter, step faster and faster, as if I became a car on the highway, in the wind and snow rush without error, until the destination.
End: back in the yard again, the snow is getting thicker and thicker, not over the foot. In a burst of surprise, I met my father coming home from work. Father's gray hair sound fell full of snow, he told me that today's snow is very big, the farmer's crops drink full, the next spring will be a bumper harvest. After returning home, I wrote this winter blessing on the Internet. I once again sigh, if I am part of this winter that would be so good, selfless to bring hope to the landscape.
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