The first winter vacation writing article, let the children write the article titled "The Tree". I hope that children can learn to borrow things to express their feelings. Through the submission of learning tasks, many good works were discovered. I haven't written or inked for a long time, but I have a feeling and send it, and I also wrote a piece of it myself to keep a souvenir.
That tree
Class 72 Yang Zhenchao
Spring to autumn, the ginkgo biloba after the hometown is already full of gold! It is unpretentious and tenacious, guarding my homeland. My grandfather was an old farmer, and he supported my beautiful childhood with the strength of a tree.
A few years ago, a summer day, the original scorching sun, suddenly thunderstorms, thunder to help the rain, rain to help the thunder, like two brothers, you come to play the drum, I knock the gong, stirring the sky dark. Frog drums and the sound of rain play a summer symphony. The ginkgo biloba began to shake.
Thunderstorms come and go quickly. After a while, the rain passed and the sky cleared. The tree didn't shake either. After the thunderstorm, it was sunny again. It was boring, I went to a friend's house to play.
We were so idle. He jumped down the steps, which I thought was funny, and jumped down. With a "bang", I felt the taste of blood flowing from my head. Drops of blood flowed down, and I collapsed to the ground due to excessive pain. My friend's grandmother called my grandfather.
The sun is still so poisonous! The harsh sunlight made me close my eyes. Grandpa came, he had just been working in the fields, he got a call, eight hundred miles to hurry, and drove the electric car like an F1 car. He carried me to the car, used a towel to stop the bleeding, added enough horsepower, and took me to the hospital on the street.
Near noon, the temperature rose, and behind my grandfather's back, a dense bead of sweat the size of raindrops oozed out, making his back completely wet, and I suddenly realized how tall he was, like the stout ginkgo tree behind the house, and that tree held up a large shade for me. When I was hurt, he shielded me from the wind and rain.
When I arrived at the hospital, it was already noon. He registered me, waited anxiously, and walked out, smoking cigarettes one by one, his face already flushed.
"Patient 66." The hospital horn shouted loudly. Grandpa sent me to the doctor and asked what to do. The doctor looked at the wound and said, "A few stitches." ”
So I went into the operating room. The huge light bulb gave off a blinding light, and I closed my eyes again. After that, I couldn't remember anything.
Walking out of the operating room and seeing Grandpa, he let out a long sigh. The evergreen trees outside the window are growing luxuriantly...
The last time I returned to my hometown, it was winter, and the leaves of ginkgo biloba had all withered away, leaving only bare branches. The cold wind blows through the treetops, and once up and down, it hangs old. A greater gust of wind broke the slightly thinner branches. There is no such thing as the majestic hair of the year.
I think of my grandfather, who is now in his old age. He was the tree that held up a beautiful, windy childhood for me.
Zhou Xingyuan
You know? Spring today. Sitting on the balcony, enjoying the warm sun, touching the fragrant fat, green and shiny, the buds of camellia are more and more swollen, and the petals of red and bright have been revealed, and the garlic head inserted in the soil has been rubbing and growing in recent days, and a touch of new green has not stopped sneaking out. But outside, the wind was still whistling, disturbing the hair of pedestrians and tightening the doors and windows of the house. Looking down, the rows of trees downstairs have left only black branches that do not slip away, which look so crooked.
Thoughts could not help but drift into the distance, and the tree behind the house appeared in front of me.
The soft spring breeze caresses its branches. Suddenly, the vigorous vitality surged forward, and the full buds finally released the long-stored passion, and the clusters of goose yellow dot the branches, like the drums of spring. After a while, the black branches also glowed green. Watching from a distance, the swaying new green, the breath of youth, can always ripple the ripples of the heart lake. Pinch a branch, form a circle, wrap it around layer by layer, wear it on your head, and feel as if you have been beautified. There was great joy in my heart.
Happiest, my mother planted cucumber and tomato seedlings next to the willow tree, and I watched from the sidelines, looking forward to the sweet summer harvest. Home-grown cucumbers are relatively sleek and have a faint sweetness, and home-grown tomatoes are with honey powder, which is particularly delicious. Thinking about it, I couldn't help but salivate.
Summer, it always feels so hot to me, but it's full of fun. When sleepy, I like to sleep on the long bench pieced together in front of the porch, blowing the wind and looking at the willows by the river, full of comfort. At that time, my mother was probably at ease! Because adults sleep, they always like to sleep with their children pressed together. However, most of the time, I can't sleep. Always sneak up and go out to play while they're asleep. Picking locust flowers, blowing reed leaves, playing with marbles... My favorite is to play under the old willow tree behind the kitchen.
Find a reed pole, a thin wire, a convenience bag, what to do? Got it! The thin wire is enclosed in a moderately sized circle, and the remaining wire is firmly tied to the top of the reed pole, so that the edge of the bag can be tied tightly on the wire ring. The guy who caught it was done. The willow tree knows a lot, and it is best that my reed can hold it. Aim at the target, slowly move the reed poles to get the bag at one end closer, and then quickly cover the cicada. I saw that in the bag, the cicada was desperately fluttering, but it was not successful! You have to move the bag slowly and carefully down against the trunk, and when you get down, quickly grasp the cicada with your hand covering the bag, and that's all it takes. My favorite is the cockroach, which is small and has a particularly loud call. What I don't like is the cockroach, which is relatively large, black patterned, looks a bit dazed, and the call is not good. Occasionally, with bad luck, you will encounter a dumb cicada, that is, a female cicada, because there is no eardrum, it will not chirp. There is also a terrible thing, that is, suddenly a foreign pepper worm falls from the top of my head, which will definitely scare me half to death.
As a child, I was a bit naughty. Like a fluttering, jumping goat-like jump on the back seat of the mother's Phoenix brand bicycle, always startling the mother's handles shaking three times, of course, can not avoid the mother's scolding. I like to go to the field with a group of friends from the same village, throw off my shoes and socks, and touch the fish in the knee-length small fish pond... My favorite job is to catch small fish by the river behind the house.
One bright afternoon, probably in the fourth and fifth grades! It was still early, and it was not yet time for school. While my parents were eating, there was no time to look at me. He took a plastic spoon scooped up the water and went to the river to catch small fish to play. To be honest, the water was very clear at that time, and there was yellow mud at the bottom of the water, standing at the water's edge or on a small bridge, watching flocks of small fish playing freely and cheerfully. Sometimes with a rice basket, you can catch several small fry at once, and Titus is happy. Crouching still, after a while, a few small fish swam over, slammed down a spoon, very disappointed, did not catch. Never mind, though, come again. At that time, there were even some stupid people who couldn't stop snorting, gambling and losing. Another leisurely swim towards this side, a spoonful past, and rush into the water at once. Can't swim, choked on several sips of water in a row, Mom! Buzzing in my head! The head is submerged in the water. Suddenly, he touched something in his hand, dragged it up desperately, and when he climbed up to the shore in a daze, he realized that it was the old willow tree by the river that saved his life, and it was its thick roots and whiskers in the water.
When my mother followed the watermark in the kitchen to find someone, I was hiding in a corner squeezing the water on my clothes, the one she had counted the hardest.
Since then, in addition to love, the heart is more grateful. When there is nothing to do, I always like to look at Old Willow stupidly.
Watch it sprout and spit green, see it flourish like smoke, watch it fade in autumn and winter, leaving a sharp body, showing its unique beauty. At that time, it was like a girl with straightened hair, which did not need the polish of the sunset, it was natural gold, washing away the lead.
Another year, a vacation from college, when I returned, the river was leisurely, but the old willow was not there. For some reason, it has left that side of the land. I don't feel empty in my heart.
Whenever I go to the back of the house to choose a dish, I always think of it. Whenever I took my child home to see my parents, when I came to the small bridge, I seemed to see the shadow of it dressing up against the river. Busy all day, every time I return to the land of old willows and look at the verdant eyes, I can smell a trace of natural breath and relax completely.
Miss you, old Willow...