After 600 words 1 in the third grade composition, the slightly wet sea breeze brushed my hair tips, and I clung to the corners of my clothes, hesitating whether to move forward.
Enjoying the embrace of stars and fireflies was probably my greatest wish when I was a child. In a strange foreign land, the locals told us that crossing a thousand holes by the sea is the dream of Spark.
At dusk, the warm sunshine overflows the shoal, but does not enter the deep hole. "What, are you afraid?" Father's voice came from overhead with a slight smile. Darkness, stagnant water, I'm afraid of being young, but why don't I want to walk there?
My heart is crossed, like anger. "No, we'll walk there now."
Holding the rock wall to take the first step, the cool water quietly passed by and gently fluctuated. Looking at the dim light that has not disappeared outside, I want to stretch out my hand to catch it, but I still can't stop the darkness in the cave. The touch of rough rocks on my hands, my steps moved bit by bit, and more and more water began to accumulate, slowly overflowing my calves and slowly pulling my heart into the depths of fear. I want to see the same place again, but I can't seem to see the end, leaving only a long ink color.
I-can I really walk there?
My father may have seen something. A warm touch came and he took my hand. "Close your eyes and follow me." Close your eyes and walk under the guidance of your father. It's still the same darkness, nothing, but it seems calmer. Feel the water in your legs slowly fluctuating, cool and quiet. My hands are still rough, but they are different. It seems that I can never see the depth of the cave again, and I imagine the story of the cave in my mind. I don't seem to be afraid anymore.
Open your eyes gently, and several fireflies fly quietly and step into the field of vision. Like breaking through the darkness, the light is not dazzling, but it is only a little bit, but it can fill my whole chest. We followed some fireflies and walked on. Gradually, there are more and more fireflies until the hole.
Step out of the stagnant water and embrace the starlight. I did it. I walked through darkness, through caves, through fear.
Perhaps what humans fear is fear itself. From another angle, maybe just close your eyes gently, you can walk through the darkness, walk through the impossibility once thought, and embrace the stars that belong to you.
I left quietly, just as I came gently.
The third day passed quickly. The dream of youth is like a flower that never fades. The wheels of years pass slowly, as if you can hear the sound of time wear, far-reaching and long.
Walking through the playground, the sunset reflected on the mottled brick wall, stretching the figure, and the vague past rippled slightly in my mind. It seems that I can still see the movements of my classmates and hear the loud noise of refueling. Junior high school partners, you are one school, I am a si, together, * * * enjoy youth, this period of time may no longer exist, but one day, we will be together, even if everything is gone, youth will not end.
Walk to the canteen and walk on the path. The "Young Eagle Radio begins its last broadcast today" echoes in your ears. Tomorrow, will you remember the endless stream of people in the canteen, will you remember that the water room is overcrowded, and will you remember the high morale three years ago? Looking up at the sky, it is blue and slightly yellow.
Strolling through the classroom, the words "only 4 days from the effective study time of the senior high school entrance examination" are clearly written on the blackboard. Like the usual self-study, the students are quietly immersed in their studies and making progress every day. This sacred peace brings me extraordinary touch and seeks the true direction of the soul. At this moment, I have never had a soft and full heart.
Walking from one end of the road to the other, through the green trees and red walls, ideals and beliefs will eventually blend, dreams and emotions will meet here, the stars will flow, and thousands of days and nights will be immersed in efforts, for today's flight. Three years of laughter will come to an abrupt end in this belated aftertaste. When I am about to enter a new station, I will look back again.
Take another look at your alma mater; Look again, class. Let's say goodbye seriously. I will look at those photos carefully, savor the lost time and recall your smile, your face and your heartache. ...
It is a disappointment for life to finish 600 words of the third grade composition every day without dancing. -Nietzsche
I used to think that three years is a long time, but in a blink of an eye, I have stood at the crossroads of grade nine. Now, all comfort has to give way to hard work. In the ninth grade, I will work hard day and night to get through it.
In the morning, the cold seems to freeze the air and curl up in a warm bed. I don't want to leave this spring-like comfort. However, the quick and sharp ringing of the alarm clock broke all dreams. Half asleep, I found that today is Monday, but at the same time, the soft bed is like the deep sea, so I can't get away. I long for the warmth of the bed, but Monday's busyness called out to me and severely scolded me for my laziness. I suddenly started up and remembered that I had decided to work hard. So, even in despair, I stretched myself and broke free from the seal of the bed.
So began a difficult day.
At night, I found that it was getting dark a little fast recently. Even if I work hard, the tutorial books and test papers on my desk are still piling up. Sometimes, some happy laughter comes from outside the window. There are children playing downstairs, skipping home holding their parents' hands. Their happiness echoes in the air, disturbing my thoughts. Only then did I realize that I was no longer the carefree child I used to be, but a ninth-grade student shouldering the future. I promised to work hard, so I no longer miss the freedom at that time. I rubbed some dry eyes and continued to study at my desk. I can't hear the footsteps of the clock hands, and I can't feel the night getting deeper and deeper.
This is the end of a hard day.
Although the road is far, the journey is. Struggle means infinite possibilities. I believe that one day in the future, I will be glad that I chose to struggle. Not all struggles can bring success, but all successes are accumulated by day and night efforts.
In the ninth grade, I walked hard!
Have we lost ourselves in the noisy world? Under the lash of time, have we forgotten our original intentions? In the rush, have we abandoned the past? It is better to slow down, let the tired thoughts relax and settle down, let the confused emotions calm down, and slowly enjoy a pleasant trip and a spiritual trip.
At present, it is a clear snow-capped mountain and a beautiful lake.
I couldn't help but go to the lake and hold a palm of water. The lake is crystal clear, and several fish are swimming around in it. For a moment, I couldn't tell whether the fish was flying in the lake or the birds were swimming in the blue sky. At the intersection of Tianshui, I know nothing about the universe. Only by walking through it can we understand that it is the innocence of nature that gives us a cool and peaceful soul corner.
Unconsciously, I have stood in front of Qianling Xuefeng. I have never been so calm and carefree. On the way to Lhasa, there is such a fairyland that tired travelers can relax. The snow-capped mountains and glaciers in the distance are crystal clear, shining like crystal in the sun. Go on, the turquoise inlaid in the white jade brocade is noble, mysterious, unknowable and untraceable. Approaching slowly, the glacier water that winds thousands of miles and meets the mouth of the lake connects mountains and lakes, tying the brocade of soft grass and distant plains. Standing under the blue sky, aloof and arrogant, Dapeng, who spreads his wings between heaven and earth, looks like an envoy between the gods and the land he protects. I won't understand until I walk over. Everything in nature is so harmonious and pure. Returning to nature means returning to the soul.
I won't understand until I walk over. We don't have to travel thousands of miles, as long as we walk carefully, there are homes in our hearts everywhere. It is the new green grass leaves after the rain, the willow buds dancing in the wind, the misty water in the clouds and the silver wrapped in ice crystals. The snow-capped mountains behind me are quiet, clouds are wandering in the sky, birds are chasing, and the lake is clear, as if to say goodbye to me. Facts have proved that it is not difficult to find inner peace. It is everywhere in the songs of nature and life!
I won't understand until I walk over. Listening to the heart and walking into nature is the best comfort to the soul in the hustle and bustle of the world.
Through the third grade 600-word composition, the fifth grade, with the "late night" counterparts.
Fight for a year in the spring and autumn, and have no regrets in this life. -inscription
Away from the hustle and bustle of the city, the night market in the countryside is quiet and even lonely.
However, among more than a dozen households, the light of one household is still on, and no one has stopped.
Paper is his war horse and pen is his treasure knife. At the moment, he is taking part in a math contest. The pen jumps and dances between the papers, leaving a series of proof processes and getting the final answer. However, after proofreading, the test paper is "a river of blood" and bright red. There is a striking red cross in the center of the test paper.
He failed ... how many times? He doesn't remember. Dark clouds covered the bright moon, leaving only a glimmer of light. The teenager looked at the poster on the wall-it was night in Shanghai, with dim lights and endless traffic. This ordinary poster has been rubbed and mended.
He clenched his fist and continued to pick up the pen.
Calendar from the original "fat", slowly thin down. Getting closer and closer to the senior high school entrance examination and getting closer and closer to the "battlefield". I studied hard for six years in primary school and three years in junior high school, just for "to be no.1"!
He unfolded the draft book again, took the pen and calculated it over and over again, repeating it.
The "rustling" sound of the pen tip flying on the page is the movement given to him by diligence; The dance of moths is an encouragement to insects; Night is the training of nature.
Finally, the teenager's answer is correct. He smiled, it was the kind of heartfelt smile, the kind of smile that lost people finally found their way, and the kind of smile that found an oasis in the desert.
He suddenly remembered something, opened a wax paper-like diary and wrote a line: "Sweat today, no regrets for the senior high school entrance examination!" " "Force through the back of the paper, like a soldier's sword!
At this time, the bright moon has come out of the dark clouds and shone on his face, giving off a clear light.
Ninth grade, walking with "Late Night"!