What do you think of when you write a composition in spring?

1. Spring, I thought of spring in my 600-word composition, just like what I said in Missing Spring: "Spring must be like this. From the foot of the castle peak, a handful of snow can't hold on, and the cold face will turn into a painted face with the spray ... "Every spring comes, the snowflake will sing a song of" hissing ",which will be the case. When the Liulv stream is small, I think of the drifting snow.

Snow, the messenger of spring, explores the way for the awakening of all things and gives the world a beautiful season. It is a clever art from nature, shining in the noisy world.

In spring, I think of the residual snow at the end of winter, which blocks the warmth of autumn and winter. Every winter and spring, when the cold touches my fingers, I take off my winter clothes, and it's time to find spring in the small garden. Canxue was covered with snow and floated in the wind. You can't tell for a moment whether it is falling snow or floating catkins, but you will remember the past. It seems that you have traveled through the Millennium and wandered around the Red Chamber, savoring the "one" remnant snow. Different melodies and different sorrows have become a part of this snowy world. In such a beautiful spring, I felt a long farewell from winter thousands of miles away. Under that blue sky, "birds began to measure the sky again." They chattered and counted, and finally dared not publish statistics. " This is the cry of spring. So, what do you think when you look at the snow left in the fresh soil? What a lovely season, what a lovely remnant snow. Slowly, you will unconsciously forget winter, as if there has never been a world wrapped in silver, and you will feel that it may have been bred in spring, and they have always been one.

In spring, I think of the proud snow. The breeze blows through the small garden, and spring seems to be covered with frost. In silence, everything is like waking up. A snowy heart happily comes with the wind, dancing in the air, holding a layer of gauze in its hand. Some people say that snow is a dancer in winter, smart and colorful, but I think it is an artist in spring. Proud of the snow hanging branches, and the red plum set each other off as an interest, full of vitality, beyond the secular feeling. "Floating like a cloud, deft like a dragon", in silence, you seem to experience the natural rhythm in Xihe calligraphy. Snowflakes stopped on the branches. In the spring world, they are static and dynamic. They are full of their own pride and fascination with winter, and they are dancing for spring. It is not an accessory of winter, but a gift of winter, which gives spring a touch of vitality. There is stillness in movement, and there is movement in silence. This is the spirit of snow, which is the essence of China's art; Snow endows spring with charm, which is the natural beauty of "hibiscus coming out of water" and an art that poetry, painting and calligraphy can't reach. What a precious treasure this is for spring!

The last Chun Xue has left, fluttering in the arms of spring. Soon, the snow melts into water, and mid-spring has arrived. Every time I stand at the window, I stare at the catkins all over the sky; Every time I step out of the house, I breathe the unique freshness in the spring air; Every time I see plum blossoms falling and migratory birds coming in the small garden, I think of snow. Pure and clean snow, full of vitality, contains sad snow, pregnant with the essence of China art.

In spring, I think of snow.

Spring reminds me that my father gave birth to me and my mother bowed to me. Spoil me, feed me, grow me and nurture me. Take care of me, answer me, get in and out of my abdomen. If you want to repay kindness, you will be extremely confused. -The Book of Songs

There is a song "Looking for You" with the title: "Missing Mom-the Embodiment of Spring". The text is: find a woman who can cook, sew, nurse, make up lessons, get up early and go to bed late, endure to forget myself forever, work at least/kloc-0.8 hours a day, and stay up 24 hours if necessary. Work seven days a week, no entertainment, never quit your job ... sacrifice your life if necessary. Make the finishing point at the bottom of the notice: who can win except mom? Let's shout together: Mom, I love you!

In fact, this is someone who defines mother affectionately in another way. For women, weak; Being a mother is strong.

When we think of our mother, we burst into tears ... the hand that drives the world is the hand that shakes the cradle. Be pregnant in October and give birth once.

Birthday is a mother's day, and it is also the most painful day for her. From that day on, the best dream of my mother's girlhood became a busy reality. She looked after us and grew up as a teenager, but she became the "housewife" she despised most when she was young.

All this is cruel. Mom, I do.

The mother watered her young life at the other end of the umbilical cord; Wrapped in appropriate "sugar coating", we pick up the past, spread out the future, hold up the years, and embrace unfathomable forever.

How many times have I looked at the child's youth, recklessness and self-righteousness, and my mother was so distressed that she could not speak. Now, the past in which mother hugged us is changing, and it has become her future with us.

Holding the mother's skirt, through the circulation of years, the change of time and space has erased the colorful seasons, but it can't weather the color of mother's love.

When we think of our mother, we burst into tears. ...

"The thread in the hands of a loving mother makes clothes for her wayward son. She sews it carefully and repairs it thoroughly, fearing that it will delay his time to go home, but an inch of grass has won much love." A "Wandering Sons" vividly shows the greatness and selflessness of maternal love. When you succeed, your mother teaches you not to lose yourself.

When you are frustrated, your mother's encouragement and comfort can always help you find yourself in adversity. Everyone has enough clothes on the treetops, and they all want to travel around the world by themselves ... I haven't taken care of it at all, and my mother's hair has been turned white by us.

Children travel thousands of miles, while mothers watch. Mother said she was not alone-all lonely mothers in the world were with her. "Parents don't care about their children. As long as you are happy, don't let your parents worry about it." This is what our mother will repay!

Give your mother more love, even if it is a fan in hot summer, a sweater in cold winter, and affectionate greetings on the phone in the quiet night.

When we think of our mother, we burst into tears. ...

What is the most precious thing in life? Maternal love. Behind every great man, there is a great mother. Thank God, we are not great men, but we also have great maternal love.

When I come back from a long way, my mother always greets me with gratitude. She regards the child's return as a precious gift from God. Mother's modesty transcends all grievances, and they shape the absolute conscience of the world.

Touching the palm print, counting yesterday, the imagination is exhausted-this is the first awakening of conscience. Mother is drifting away from our past. Time gives us the future, but it tramples on our absolute intimate dependence on our mother.

Mother's casual loneliness and her gradually disabled figure are increasing disproportionately with our abundant youth; They hurried past and could only stay in one yellowed photo after another; And our gorgeous youth is still tenaciously nourished by our mother's youth.

There must be something that can make us always feel empty when facing our mother, like a madman standing in front of the Buddha and losing confidence. At this moment, fame and fortune are like leaves in previous lives-facing my mother, I suddenly saw roots.

There are so many things on my mother that we can't help crying.

When we think of our mother, we burst into tears. ...

Let the soul become a thousand rays of sunshine, travel through time and space, and look for the years that have passed inadvertently; But we can't pick up the beads that my mother gave us and were ignored by you and me. It's a little love that makes you and I feel guilty and lost.

Motherly love is an unfathomable pool of water.

When we think of our mother, we burst into tears. ...

Take a fine tooth comb and sort out your complicated thoughts.

We shed tears when we thought of our mother.

3. Spring, I think of composition spring, I think of Jiangnan, Jiangnan in Tang poetry. When I was nine years old, I picked mulberry leaves and caught dragonflies in them (I can go back from Keelung Port). Jiangnan Petty School Su Xiaoxiao's Jiangnan reminds me of Lotus Lake, a lake with many crabs, and the small battlefield of King Wu and King Yue in Jiangnan (the war is beautiful enough). The stone disappeared and disappeared in the wine. ) After walking through Liu Di, many of my cousins are so old. Even if we meet in Jiangnan, we won't accompany me to pick lotus and ling. Even if we meet, we will meet in Jiangnan. My mother is in Xinghua Village (where is the restaurant) in Jiangnan on Easter. What didn't come back to life was my mother, Tomb-Sweeping Day, a little girl from the south of the Yangtze River. My mother is calling me, calling me at Yuantong Temple and calling me at this side of the Strait. There are many temples, pavilions, kites and swallows in the south of the Yangtze River (standing in Keelung Port, I thought I couldn't go back).

4. A composition of 600 ~ 800 words reminds me of 1 in spring, and reminds me of ... Huang Chengcheng's hometown is in Class One and Five, Senior High School. Spring is coming. Are you okay? Last night, it was time that fixed me at your most beautiful moment, and it was also the moment when I was looking for you. It is full of the strongest green in early spring, interwoven in colorful photo albums in your heart and mine. In spring, I think of me, my hometown.

The winding stone road paves your vicissitudes, and circles of stone patterns carve deeper and deeper eyes. In spring, I am afraid that the blue sky will be washed too blue, but it will also dye your massiness. So I took the stone-throwing children aside and started jumping, spinning and dancing everywhere. Occasionally there will be unknown golden flowers, but they will be more charming and eye-catching. When spring comes, it's easy to think of the peach grove that opened by the river. I'm afraid it's amazing. Countless * * * focus points are the most fatal blow to the peony in the painting. Even a large petal scattered on the ground is curled up or held innocently, which makes people want to protect the collected spring scenery.

The children also gathered by the river. A small paddle can really open the river of years. I remember the last time I stole the rice wine from the boatman on this river with green plums. It is so fragrant that it floats in the whole river. It's as drunk as a Jasper River, so drunk that I don't know whether to go or stay, but it's like standing there, staring at the wind, staring at the willow, staring at the clouds, staring at the broken porcelain. Oh, and my dearest hometown, the grandmother who loves me, loves me and dotes on me, is sitting in front of the red door, and the sunshine cuts her outline so brightly.

My grandmother loves to cut window grilles and cut out thousands of kinds of love threads, one end of which hangs on me and the other end is stuck in my heart, which melts into my blood in bright red. At this time, in spring, she should have started to help me collect all kinds of herbs, all kinds of broken petals, and help me pay attention to the new green apricots and new buds. I can imagine that she is busy in the spring, but she can't turn around every spring with me as the center. She should also have her own spring, even if she is not accompanied by me all the time.

Spring brings my dreams. There are too many grasses growing and warblers flying in my hometown. I carefully touched every corner of my hometown, sang to my hometown, listened to my life and listened to the scenery reflected outside my window. But close the door, my hometown will always be there, that's where I should return, even in spring, even if I should leave for a distant place.

Last night, my hometown sneaked into my time with spring, which brought me back to the most beautiful moment in my hometown. Hometown is the land that everyone can call most emotionally, the cradle of that side and the deep soul of that side. It's spring, hometown. You must be beautiful now.

2. In the spring, I thought of ... the spring when Class One of Senior High School (13) was in charge, when everything was revived and thriving. Crops grow in the ground and are full of vitality.

Not to mention those wild vegetables that grow in the ground year after year and are left unattended. Early spring and March have also become the season to taste wild vegetables.

I remember that Zhou Zuoren wrote an essay called "Wild Vegetables in My Hometown", which talked about all kinds of wild vegetables he had seen in eastern Zhejiang when he was a child, such as Quguo, Chinese milk vetch, pea seedlings and shepherd's purse, interspersed with his half-life impression of wild vegetables. Mr Tang Zhi doesn't care what future generations say about him, but I like his sketches very much.

Dilute peace, but also has a homely taste. Although East Zhejiang is not Suzhou, there is probably not much difference between customs and wild vegetables.

And like this sketch, it should be childhood life and its * * * sound. Before the third grade, my grandparents lived in the country.

Every year in Tomb-Sweeping Day, my family goes back to my hometown to visit the grave. The ceremony was simple, nothing compared with the gift of the ancients. It is just a table, some sacrifices, food on it, plus a gold-plated bronze censer, a pair of red candles and three fine incense sticks.

Everyone kowtowed and bowed down, burned yellow paper and ghost cloth, and the sacrifice was over. The younger generation did their duty to their ancestors, and also brought some meaning of praying for themselves.

However, on this day, the children's program just appeared, ran home, carried a basket, and invited three or five partners to dig wild vegetables together. There are not many wild vegetables in my hometown, but there are certainly many.

How long is a wild vegetable called Malantou? Malantou looks like a small rape that has just grown for a few days, but it is more tenacious and slender, and its color is quite dark green.

Malantou grows mostly on the banks of rivers or in the damp places of ditches in the fields. They always grow in groups, but it is difficult to find one Malantou at a time.

Most of the fun of digging wild vegetables is also here, full of surprises and discoveries. When you find a place, you invite your partner to gently lift the blade of grass with one hand, gently pick it with the other hand, pat the soil gently with the back of the shovel, shake it and put it in the basket.

If you find a dense place, you can grab it with your hands and swing it on the ground like a shovel, and then you can get a Malan head again. The most brilliant achievement in my memory is my aunt's childlike innocence, and she took my cousin and me to the field to look for it. Inadvertently, I found a large piece of Malantou under a layer of rotten straw, and then I did the same thing and found many Malantou under layers of straw that made me feel happy.

After picking the weeds, the fun seems to have disappeared. At noon, when my grandmother brought a plate of carefully mixed Malan heads, I just pulled out two pieces symbolically and carefully. Maybe the children who dig wild vegetables just enjoy the joy of discovery and discovery! After the house in the country was demolished, I never went back, let alone dig wild vegetables again.

In a blink of an eye, the sky was clear, and on a spring night, I seemed to see myself running on the green field again, holding a small shovel and a small round basket in my hand. In spring, I thought of wild vegetables again ... 3. In spring, I thought of ... Wang Haixia in that spring, the first year of high school (13), and the kapok in the south trembled for a long time and finally bloomed as promised.

Time flies to urge the new year, but the warm face is gradually disappearing, vaguely, through a long time. -Inscription.

Good memories are always suitable to be placed in the bottom of my heart as sad memories. In the casual sunshine, those yellowed fragments were pieced together into songs that I can never interpret in my life.

My grandfather died when I was seven years old. According to my father, I have cancer.

In fact, I didn't understand the power of those two words until my thoughts turned white.

It says spring, which reminds me of my old hometown. Spring is coming. Are you okay?

Last night, it was time that fixed me at your most beautiful moment, and it was also the moment when I was looking for you. It is full of the strongest green in early spring, interwoven in colorful photo albums in your heart and mine. In spring, I think of me, my hometown.

The winding stone road paves your vicissitudes, and circles of stone patterns carve deeper and deeper eyes. In spring, I am afraid that the blue sky will be washed too blue, but it will also dye your massiness. So I took the stone-throwing children aside and started jumping, spinning and dancing everywhere. Occasionally there will be unknown golden flowers, but they will be more charming and eye-catching.

When spring comes, it's easy to think of the peach grove that opened by the river. I'm afraid it's amazing. Countless * * * focus points are the most fatal blow to the peony in the painting. Even a large petal scattered on the ground is curled up or held innocently, which makes people want to protect the collected spring scenery.

The children also gathered by the river. A small paddle can really open the river of years. I remember the last time I stole the rice wine from the boatman on this river with green plums. It is so fragrant that it floats in the whole river. It's as drunk as a Jasper River, so drunk that I don't know whether to go or stay, but it's like standing there, staring at the wind, staring at the willow, staring at the clouds, staring at the broken porcelain.

Oh, and my dearest hometown, the grandmother who loves me, loves me and dotes on me, is sitting in front of the red door, and the sunshine cuts her outline so brightly. My grandmother loves to cut window grilles and cut out thousands of kinds of love threads, one end of which hangs on me and the other end is stuck in my heart, which melts into my blood in bright red.

At this time, in spring, she should have started to help me collect all kinds of herbs, all kinds of broken petals, and help me pay attention to the new green apricots and new buds. I can imagine that she is busy in the spring, but she can't turn around every spring with me as the center. She should also have her own spring, even if she is not accompanied by me all the time.

Spring brings my dreams. There are too many grasses growing and warblers flying in my hometown. I carefully touched every corner of my hometown, sang to my hometown, listened to my life and listened to the scenery reflected outside my window. But close the door, my hometown will always be there, that's where I should return, even in spring, even if I should leave for a distant place.

Last night, my hometown sneaked into my time with spring, which brought me back to the most beautiful moment in my hometown. Hometown is the land that everyone can call most emotionally, the cradle of that side and the deep soul of that side.

It's spring, hometown. You must be beautiful now.

6. Appreciation of Yu Guangzhong's poem "Spring reminds me" is about 65,438+0,000 words. 1. Taste the language features, feel the artistic conception of the poem 65,438+0, and use overlapping sentence patterns. The overlapping keyword Jiangnan and the same central word appear repeatedly, forming a recurring melody. 2. In front of the central word "Jiangnan", various modifiers are changing. 2. organize your mood. Grasp the theme of the poem: start with the scenery, customs, history and culture of Jiangnan; Began to recall old friends and relatives in Jiangnan; Finally, the image of the mother symbolizing the mainland of China is introduced. So what does Jiangnan symbolize? Three lyric levels are formed in turn. Jiangnan in the poem not only treasures his boyhood, but also symbolizes the long-standing culture of his mother, motherland and Chinese nation. The poet is nostalgic for the past and expresses a kind of cultural nostalgia with the splendid ancient culture of his own nation as the spiritual background. Let's talk about your understanding of the words "My mother won't come back on Easter" and "My mother is calling me". (First, it also implies the unification of the two cliffs, and it is difficult to realize the wish that the motherland reappears in the world with a complete image. Secondly, every paragraph of this poem has a bracket, which is the function of these words. (Some are the poet's supplements to the present situation, and some are comments on the object of description, enriching the content of the poem. If these words are removed, the main idea of the work will be greatly hurt.

7. The draft composition "Remind me in spring" reminds me in spring.

Jiangnan, Jiangnan in Tang poetry, is nine years old.

Pick mulberry leaves to catch dragonflies.

(You can go back from Keelung Port)

South of the Yangtze river

Xiao du de Jiang nan

Jiangnan in Su Xiaoxiao's Works

Then I thought of the lake with many lotus flowers and many ling.

A lake rich in crabs, a Jiangnan rich in lakes.

The Small Battlefield between King Wu and King Yue

That war was beautiful enough.

The history of escape

The missing fan Li

It's missing from the wine flag

(It takes three hours by plane from Songshan)

Emperor Qianlong's Jiangnan

In spring, I think of weeping willows everywhere.

Jiangnan, think of

A fishing port near Taihu Lake reminds me of it.

So many cousins, walking on the ground of Liu.

I can only marry one of them! )

Walking through Liu Di, many cousins.

Let Yi Lao go.

Any old man, in Jiangnan.

(Jiangnan, spray clouds for three hours)

Even if we meet, they won't accompany me.

Accompany me to pick lotus and ling.

Even if we meet, we should meet in Jiangnan.

In the south of the Yangtze River with apricot blossoms and spring rain

In Xinghua village in Jiangnan

Excuse me, where is the restaurant? )

Where is my mother?

Easter, it's my mother who won't be resurrected.

A little girl in Jiangnan became a mother.

Tomb-Sweeping Day, my mother is calling me, at Yuantong Temple.

Call me on this side of the channel.

Call me across the channel.

Shout, in Jiangnan, in Jiangnan

There are many temples and pavilions in the south of the Yangtze River.

There are many kites in Jiangnan.

Jiangnan, in the bell

south of the Yangtze River

(Standing in Keelung Port, thinking-thinking.

I can't go back if I want to)

Jiangnan with many swallows

8. Spring reminds me of spring, the season when everything recovers and flourishes.

Crops grow in the ground and are full of vitality. Not to mention those wild vegetables that grow in the ground year after year and are left unattended.

Early spring and March have also become the season to taste wild vegetables. I remember that Zhou Zuoren wrote an essay called "Wild Vegetables in My Hometown", which talked about all kinds of wild vegetables he had seen in eastern Zhejiang when he was a child, such as Quguo, Chinese milk vetch, pea seedlings and shepherd's purse, interspersed with his half-life impression of wild vegetables.

Mr Tang Zhi doesn't care what future generations say about him, but I like his sketches very much. Dilute peace, but also has a homely taste.

Although East Zhejiang is not Suzhou, there is probably not much difference between customs and wild vegetables. And like this sketch, it should be childhood life and its * * * sound.

Before the third grade, my grandparents lived in the country. Every year in Tomb-Sweeping Day, my family goes back to my hometown to visit the grave.

The ceremony is very simple, not comparable to the gift of the ancients. It is just a table, some sacrifices, and food placed on it, plus a gold-plated bronze censer, a pair of red candles and three incense sticks. Everyone kowtowed and bowed down, burned yellow paper and ghost cloth, and the sacrifice was over.

The younger generation did their duty to their ancestors, and also brought some meaning of praying for themselves. However, on this day, the children's program just appeared, running home, carrying baskets and shovels, and digging wild vegetables with three or five partners.

There are not many wild vegetables in my hometown, but there are certainly many. How long is a wild vegetable called Malantou?

Malantou looks like a small rape that has just grown for a few days, but it is more tenacious and slender, and its color is quite dark green. Malantou mostly grows on the banks of rivers or in the damp places of field ditches.

They always grow in groups, but it is difficult to find one Malantou at a time. Most of the fun of digging wild vegetables is also here, full of surprises and discoveries.

When you find a place, you invite your partner to gently lift the blade of grass with one hand, gently pick it with the other hand, pat the soil gently with the back of the shovel, shake it and put it in the basket. If you find a dense place, you can grab it with your hands and swing it on the ground like a shovel, and then you can get a Malan head again.

The most brilliant achievement in my memory is my aunt's childlike innocence, and she took my cousin and me to the field to look for it. Inadvertently, I found a large piece of Malantou under a layer of rotten straw, and then I did the same thing and found many Malantou under layers of straw that made me feel happy. After picking the weeds, the fun seems to have disappeared. At noon, when my grandmother brought a plate of carefully mixed Malan heads, I just pulled out two pieces symbolically and carefully.

Maybe the children who dig wild vegetables just enjoy the joy of discovery and discovery! After the house in the country was demolished, I never went back, let alone dig wild vegetables again. In a blink of an eye, the sky was clear, and on a spring night, I seemed to see myself running on the green field again, holding a small shovel and a small round basket in my hand.

In spring, I thought of wild vegetables again.

9. After reading Yu Guangzhong's Spring, I remembered the answer 12~ 15. Fill in the blanks according to the content of the poem. Memory is as long as a railroad track. 2. My four imaginary enemies [Yu Guangzhong]. 3. From mother to extramarital affairs [Yu Guangzhong]. 4. Wind chimes [Yu Guangzhong]. 5. Qin figurines. 8. It is still the so-called spring [Yu Guangzhong] 9. The burial of stars [Yu Guangzhong] 10. The night is like a net11. Looking for Li Bai [Yu Guangzhong] 12. Fire bath [Yu Guangzhong] 13. In spring, I remembered [Yu Guangzhong] 14. Cobweb [Yu Guangzhong] 15. Bugu [Yu Guangzhong] 16. Moonlight [afterglow] 17. Ask Candle [Yu Guangzhong] 18. Aiming light [afterlight]. 2 1. Song of the Yangtze River boatman [Yu Guangzhong] 22. The blind fortune teller [Yu Guangzhong] 23. Next date [Yu Guangzhong] 24. Forever, I'm waiting for Yu Guangzhong 25. Green bristlegrass [Yu Guangzhong] 26. Four rhymes of homesickness [Yu Guangzhong] 27. Piccolo [Yu Guangzhong] 28. Dusk [afterglow] 29. Silver leaf mark [Yu Guangzhong] 30. Haitang tattoo [Yu Guangzhong] 3 1. When I was 35 years old. Traveling on the highway with Li Bai [Yu Guangzhong] 36. Play Li Bai [Yu Guangzhong] 37. Homesickness [Yu Guangzhong] 38. Cheer Harley [Yu Guangzhong] 39. Yuantong Temple [Yu Guangzhong] 40. Shu people give fans a record [Yu Guangzhong] 4 1. The myth of Dinghu Lake [Yu Guangzhong] 42 45. Screen account [Yu Guangzhong] 46. Give it to the painter [Yu Guangzhong] 47. The third season [Yu Guangzhong] 48. Waiting for you in the rain [Yu Guangzhong] 49 Crane Burner [Yu Guangzhong] 50. Souvenir clock [Yu Guangzhong] 5 1. Children of Jinling Jianghu [Yu Guangzhong] 52. Yu Guangzhong's poem 53. Yu Guangzhong: The palm print of his left hand [Yu Guangzhong] 54. Tigers and roses [Yu Guangzhong] 55. Books 58. Six umbrellas [Yu Guangzhong] 59. Double bed [Yu Guangzhong] 60. Water town [Yu Guangzhong ]6 1. Panasonic [Yu Guangzhong] people. Paper boat [Yu Guangzhong] 63. Dandelion years [Yu Guangzhong] 64. Listen to the cold rain [Yu Guangzhong] 66 Homesickness.