The falling dead leaves were quickly covered with snow, disappeared like a grain of dust and sank with my memory. The following is a model essay by Xue, which may be helpful to you.

"Snowy Day" Snowy days are suitable for missing, sitting quietly by the window, thinking about the distant, not-so-distant past. I never tire of reading the roads I have traveled, the people I have met, the weaknesses I have experienced, and the storms I have experienced.

On snowy days, my heart becomes soft, and crystal snowflakes dance shy attachment. The warmth of spring, the freshness of summer lotus and the splendor of autumn leaves are all integrated with the charm of snow, purifying nature and making the world beautiful.

On snowy days, you can catch up with the drama and see your favorite actors. You can think nothing or a lot, and you can turn your mood into words, just like now. Think of Wan Li thousands of miles away. Those of us who have romantic feelings often meet frankly in the dream of the moon, which is also a different kind of fate.

On snowy days, it is suitable for three or two friends to get together and have tea and chat. Spend thousands of dollars, only three or two are pleasing to the eye. These two simple but elegant confidants can be far apart together, or they can face each other quietly and remain silent.

Snowy days will suddenly be sad, distant years, missed feelings, powerless sigh. Some things are difficult only after experience. Some people are far away, but they are close at hand. Not everything is done so willingly; Not everyone wants to say goodbye.

On snowy days, I prefer to look up at the sky, but I can't see you in the distance or the swallows flying south, only a vast blue sky. That kind of pure beauty, that kind of innocence, that kind of purity, that kind of infatuation, makes the sky filled with beautiful poems.

Snowy days are full of hope. May the earth covered with winter snow sleep peacefully, may the plum blossom in my heart shine in the ice, may all my relatives and friends be happy and safe, may the feeling of eternal love be distressed, and may the clean promise that I will never forget be realized in the wind.

Snowy days are romantic to me. I miss your thoughts, the attachment of my left hand and the poems of my right hand.

In the dead of night, I meditate with a Buddhist scripture by the window, but I am not bored. Instead, the mind followed the scriptures and quietly realized the deep Zen, as if it were integrated with heaven and earth, listening to the purest voice of everything. It's just that the weather is too cold. Although it is already late autumn, today's chill seems unusual, which is beyond the resistance of my shirt. Oh, how cold it is! When I got up and closed the window, I found that under the thick night outside the window, there were a few dots dotted, no, almost groups of snowflakes were flying. A gust of wind blew, and the snowflakes scattered and danced like fairies. When did the wind bring this winter spirit here in advance and dance in the late autumn night? Or did they lose the direction of snowflakes and fall into the autumn world early? No, no,no. They have a plastic surgery hospital. Look at the smallest one. Didn't she float into the sky?

The sun is shining at dawn, as clear as snow. Improper low temperature arrival in this season's city, the sun is still bright, but the weather is unexpectedly cold, as if to freeze people into crisp, worse than popsicles. The wind is blowing, and the spirit of last night is gone. Maybe it was frozen and hidden? In such cold weather, even the ice and snow will be afraid! My heart is also a winter snow. Leng Xue in my heart is not as cute as an elf at all, but left a deep scar. Of course, this injury is far less memorable than the pain of melting snow.

20XX 65438+ 10 month

We had a good time. Go away! The little boy was surrounded by a group of little girls of similar age and shouted at me outside the classroom. Like a muffled thunder, the sound is not deafening but it really hurts my heart. I turned my head and ran, leaving him standing in the same place with a bunch of girls waiting for liposuction for a while. This is just a joke. It's not like the little guy mumbled back to his seat and felt like he was stabbed.

At that time, he was just a little boy. Just like now.

At that time, I was just a little girl It's the same now.

I never spoke to him again, which lasted for half a year.

He never talks to me again, sometimes staring at me silently.

Cold weather spreads in our hearts.

The long snow covered the once pure heart.

Spring of 20XX

I am used to drawing cartoons alone, going to the bookstore alone, and choosing a place near the sun, so that a few rays of warm sunshine can shine on the famous books I am reading through the glass. This method is also quite good.

Young, so sophisticated! I can't help sighing for myself. That winter snow made my mind mature early.

He also has a new bike, which he drives all over the street every day, staring at the car every day in a daze: when will the promise come true? But why can't you forget? Sigh, a lonely bicycle is flying in the street with a full heart. Little boy, very troubled.

Who says teenagers don't know the taste of sorrow?

"Heart of Snow" North, winter, the moon and neon, the first snow began to drift.

Sitting alone behind the curtain of the snow fog, listening to the sound of snow falling. The falling dead leaves were quickly covered with snow, disappeared like a grain of dust and sank with my memory.

It seems that every winter is spent like this, curling up in my warm cabin, lighting a curling lamp, listening to music, drinking steaming tea, reading my favorite books and watching the wind, frost, rain and snow slide past the window year after year. I would like to live in my castle like this and watch the years pass quietly, like water. I don't know if the traces of time are hung on my face and engraved in my heart. I know that one day, my eyes are no longer as clear as snowflakes. After years of heavy snow, will you still remember the woman behind the snow and the heart of the past as snow?

Looking up at the pedestrians on the road, everyone is in a hurry. The solstice of winter has not yet arrived, and the cold at this moment is not biting. I think a person walking on the road, looking at the leaves that will not fall, will make me feel a little sad, feel the warmth of home, and involuntarily speed up my steps. Again remind of the ancient poem, Chai Men smell dogs barking, hakodate. Thinking of this, I can't help laughing, not at others, but at myself. Sitting in the room all day thinking, vague, many scenes have never been experienced and will never be realized, but inexplicably familiar and frightened. As if I had wings in my heart, I flew around for me through time and space. It turns out that imagination can be so real or so absurd.

I suddenly remembered an old song many years ago: put away my feelings, leave a blank in my memory, forget the past I once had, and never say that I love these naive old songs again. A few words can solve all my troubles. How many words can be realized in the ethereal promise of that year? I don't know and I can't prove it. All I know is that it will never bring the slightest excitement or dizziness, just like fireworks in the night sky. Beauty only belongs to her for a moment, the wind blows away, the prosperity is gone, and everything is empty.

Moonlight and snow shadow rolled into the window, sprinkled on the table by the window, sprinkled on my forehead, and nourished my soul. Fingertips danced again, pouring out her loneliness. This is just a game and a dream. Only the rules of this game are impermanent. This dream can see the other side, but can't swim. This play is wonderful. It should be staged when it should be staged, and it should end when it should be finished. This game is very helpless, from clear to fuzzy, from spring flowers to autumn dew. Like a wisp of wind, a Jing Xue, ups and downs at will, I don't know where to go, I don't know where to go.

Go wherever you go, and come wherever you come; What's the hurry between going and coming? Mr. Zhu Ziqing's "Hurry" made me sigh. It turns out that everything is doomed to be in a hurry, and I will never catch up with it.

The snow outside the window has stopped. I stayed where I was, like a butterfly tired of dancing, unable to fly away.