Prose describing kites

Kites flying against the wind can fly very high. Only through the hardships of adversity can we learn to be brave and cherish in the journey of life. The following is a classic essay about kites that I brought for your appreciation.

Classic Prose on Kites: Kites

I always feel like I'm flying and floating in the air.

I have seen some scenery and traveled for a while.

As if, I still dragged a long line up and down for a while in the evening after the rain in my childhood. I am not in the blue sky, I always collide on the ground: close contact with stones; Friction with the ground; I hit the wall again and again and broke my wings ... but I don't feel hurt, even if I am really black and blue. I always hear that little girl's happy laughter and see her red face in the running sunset. I am floating in my mind, not knowing whether I am the kite that is always injured or the happy little girl. However, I remember that time, a slightly cool spring rain.

I'm still floating

As if, I came to the girl's youth, she is still young, no, she is not young, but she still wants to play with me. High above, I saw the mighty, rushing, rolling and roaring impact of the Yellow River on the ground. Do I see warm sunshine, endless spring green, swaying in the wind, and waves? It's green waves, it's life on the face. I saw that at the far end of the light, on that pan-blue horizontal line, the setting sun, which had become cold, merged with the sky, followed by cold, clouds and light.

Thinking is changing. I am a kite. Am I a kite?

Why do I seem trapped in a body? I can open my eyes. I am busy running around. What am I doing? I don't want to be bound. I still want to fly. I still miss the scenery in the sky. Can I go back?

Really, gradually, I am confused again. Actually, I'm still the kite. That thread has never been broken, and it has been involved. What is forcing me to study? I don't know. There is always invisible thrust that makes me climb high, and some even force me to work hard. In fact, I am still the kite, the kite that will never break!

I fell asleep. Well, I always fell asleep. I seem to have slept during the day, but I still slept at night. I was dark and never woke up.

I will never fly again. I'm under the dark bed. A mouse happily crawled over my body and bit off my limbs and a moldy thread. The moisture on the ground gradually penetrated into my thin body, and I was almost at the end. I'm still floating, but my body is gone.

Looking at the change of light and shadow below, I found that

Uninterrupted clues have made my experience.

The broken thread buried the rest of my life.

In the afterlife, hope is still a kite held by a thread.

Classic Prose on Kites: Kites

In winter in Beijing, there is still snow on the ground, gray-black bald branches are forked in the clear sky, and one or two kites are floating in the distance, which is a surprise and sadness for me.

The kite season in my hometown is spring and February. If you hear the rustling wind wheel, you can see a crab kite with light ink color or a centipede kite with tender blue color. There is also a lonely tile kite, which has no wind wheel and is placed very low, showing a lonely and pitiful look. But at this time, the willows on the ground have sprouted, and the early-blooming mountain peaches are also spitting buds, which are in harmony with the decorations of the children in the sky and become a gentle spring day. Where am I now? It is still cold around in winter, but the long-lost spring in my hometown is rippling in this sky.

But I have never liked flying kites. Not only do I hate flying kites, but I also hate flying kites, because I think this is something that worthless children do. Contrary to me, my little brother, who was about ten years old at that time, was very ill and thin. However, he likes kites best, and I can't afford them myself, so I have to stare at the sky with my mouth closed, sometimes for half a day. The crab kite in the distance suddenly fell, and he exclaimed; The entanglement between the two tile kites was untied, and he jumped up happily. All this is my laughingstock and shame.

One day, it suddenly occurred to me that I hadn't seen him for many days, but I remember seeing him picking up dead bamboo in the backyard. Like an epiphany, I ran to a small house where few people went, pushed open the door and found him among the dusty things. He sat on a small stool, facing the wide stool; He stood up in horror, his face was bloodless and he winced. Next to the spacious stool, there is a bamboo bone of a Hu Die kite, which is not pasted with paper. There is a pair of small wind wheels for eyes on the stool, decorated with red paper strips, which will be finished soon. In the satisfaction of uncovering the secret, I was angry that he wouldn't let me know, so I took great pains to steal the toys of those useless children. I immediately reached out and broke one of Hu Die's wing bones, and threw the wind wheel on the ground, which squashed it. In terms of age and strength, he can't compare with me. Of course, I won a complete victory, so I proudly walked out, leaving him standing in the hut in despair. I don't know what happened to him later, and I didn't pay attention.

However, my punishment finally came. Long after we left, I was in middle age. Unfortunately, I occasionally read a foreign book about children, only to know that games are the most legitimate behavior of children and toys are their angels. So the scene that I have never recalled in the past 20 years when my spirit was destroyed suddenly unfolded before my eyes, and my heart seemed to turn into lead at the same time, falling heavily.

But the heart didn't fall, didn't break. He just had a bad fall, a bad fall.

I also know the way to make up for it: give him a kite, approve of his flying, persuade him to fly, and I will fly with him. We shouted, ran and laughed. But like me, he already has a beard.

I also know that there is another way to make up for it: ask his forgiveness and wait for him to say, "I don't blame you at all." Then, my heart must relax. This is indeed a feasible method. Once, as soon as we met, many hard stripes of "life" were engraved on our faces, and my heart was heavy. We gradually talked about the old things of childhood, so I described this paragraph and said that my childhood was very confused. "I don't blame you at all." I think, as soon as he said it, I was forgiven immediately, and my heart was relieved.

"Is there such a thing?" He said with a surprised smile, just like listening to other people telling stories. He doesn't remember anything.

What is there to forgive if you forget completely and have no resentment? Forgive without complaining, just lie.

What else can I ask for? My heart has to be heavy.

Now, the spring in my hometown permeates this strange place, which reminds me of my long-lost childhood and brings me uncertain sadness. I might as well hide in the cold winter-but it's cold all around, which gives me great cold and air conditioning.

Classic Prose on Kites: Kites

The third day of the first lunar month is the traditional "Kite Festival". In my hometown, this time is a paradise for children. The vernal equinox blows slightly across fields and hillsides, and the sky is densely covered with kites, big and small, round and square, long and short. There are centipedes, dragonflies, tiles and swallows. ...

I have always been interested in flying kites. To be honest, I don't like flying kites very much. Or, I like flying kites, but I can't fly kites; In other words, I just watch others fly kites. I like watching kites. I have a good feeling for kites, which I learned later. I like to watch others lift kites slowly, take a few steps back briskly, and the small wheels in their hands squeak out a long line, like silver. Kites run and play freely in the breeze like children.

Twenty-six years ago, a fever caused my legs to be disabled and I was trapped for life. In the days when I lost my legs, I even understood that death was the solution to all my troubles. I still remember how desperate I was. I'm only sixteen years old, so I should carry my schoolbag and walk on the way to school with my classmates talking and laughing. There should be girls I like and parents I want to repay. However, I am disabled. I am indeed disabled, which is true. I can't carry my schoolbag into the classroom like them, I can't give my love to the girl I admire, I can't repay my parents, I can't.

During that time, my temper became very bad and I always shed tears. Sometimes I even pick up what I see and throw it out the window. My parents often come out to persuade me at this time, but they often have a big fight with my father. My mother always tears my father out of my house. Gradually, I seldom speak. I only talk to my mother two or three times a day. Sometimes my mother often talks too much, and I am tired of kicking her out.

After a long time, my mother worried that I would never be good like this, so she let me go outside to see the scenery. I really thought I had stayed long enough, so I agreed to my mother's request, but only if I was alone. My mother still wanted to talk, but when she saw me rocking the wheelchair into the room, she nodded silently. I shook my wheelchair and came from the yard to the makeshift bridge. Everything here seems to have never changed. The river still flows so clearly. I accidentally flew over one or two swallows with spring mud and splashed in the water with their wings up. Willow fluttered in the breeze, like a graceful woman, fiddling with flowing blue hair in the breeze. However, what really caught my attention was the kite. I don't know why, but my anger came quickly in an instant. I slapped my unconscious limbs with my hands, shook my wheelchair aimlessly, and turned and walked home. Just as I turned around, I saw my mother standing there in shock. When she slowly realized that I was staring at her, she seemed a little caught off guard. She knows my pain.

My father gave me a big light blue dragonfly kite on my ninth birthday. I am very happy. This is what I want most, and it is also my favorite. I can't wait to run out with my sister with my kite. At the temporary bridge, my sister paid off the line with wheels, and I ran with a kite, but I always failed. My father came over and took the steering wheel from my sister. I ran with a kite in my hand, and the wheels in my father's hand creaked. "Fly, fly." My sister is only willing to show it to her mother. Finally, the big dragonfly flew into the sky. Kites run and play freely like children in soft kites. I took the steering wheel from my father and paid off the line slowly. Kites fly higher and higher, and fly farther and farther.

Since I had a kite, my childhood has become particularly beautiful. Every time after school, my sister and I will come to the lively footbridge. My sister puts the thread on the wheel, and I run very fast with a kite in my hand. "Fly, fly." I can always hear my sister's sweet voice. Sometimes my parents come, but they always have nothing to do. But what makes me happiest is flying kites with my friends.

Every March, friends bring all kinds of big kites. There are golden sun Weng, red centipede with tail, big eagle with high spirits and pink steam wheel. However, what caught my eye most was my big light blue dragonfly. Although someone holds the same kite as me, I still think it is the most beautiful and beautiful. Kites fly slowly, one higher and one farther. The sky became lively, and some kites were intertwined with others. At this time, the two families had to take back the kite and put it back in the sky. It is common that some kites suddenly disappear because of the thread.

Since I was paralyzed, our family has never let go of kites. It was coldly placed behind the shadow door, covered with a thick layer of dust for many years, until that day my mother accidentally turned it out.

"Throw it away, throw it away," I couldn't control my emotions.

"Let's fly kites. That's not bad." Mother looked at me imploringly.

"I can't let go, I can't stand up." Tears rolled down her eyes.

Mother also cried. "But you also want to live in the future, also want to live! You can't give up on yourself just because you lack something more than others. " I don't know what kind of feeling it is, which hurts the softest part of my heart. What kind of strength do you have to take care of a son who is paralyzed in a wheelchair? Who is still silently behind, bearing more care than pain and suffering? Only my mother, I can't repay my kindness in my life.

I failed to fly a kite again, but I accepted. That day, our family came to the temporary bridge again. My father paid off the line with a wheel, and my sister ran quickly with a big dragonfly kite. "Fly, fly," my sister happily pointed out to my mother and me. Kites run and play freely in the breeze like children. Father put the wheel in his hand in my hand, and the kite flew higher and higher, farther and farther.

I know this is the best gift my parents gave me. They want me to live strong in the hard years and face the wind like a kite.