The Story of Time
A bowl of rice, put it on the next day, the water container will be a little dry; On the third day, I was afraid that there was something wrong with the taste; On the fourth day, we can almost find that he has gone bad; If you put it down again, it will be moldy.
What made that pot of rice go bad-it was time.
However, in Shaoxing, Zhejiang, young parents gave birth to their daughters and buried an altar of rice wine in the cellar. Seventeen or eighteen years later, when my daughter grew up, these wines became the best wine at her wedding. It has a beautiful and thought-provoking name called Daughter Red.
What makes ordinary rice into mellow wine-it's also time.
Is time a good magician or an evil magician? No, time is just a simple multiplication, doubling the original digital value. The rice that has begun to deteriorate is deteriorating day by day; And the wine that began to be mellow continued to add fragrance every minute.
In the world, we also see that once naive teenagers begin to degenerate, they will inevitably get deeper and deeper, and finally become totally embarassed and disgusting. But on the contrary, time has added a gentle smile, considerate eyes, mature elegance and wisdom charm to those who pursue kindness.
It's also cooked rice. What's the difference between glutinous rice and wine? A little wine yeast. Born with parents, who degenerates like an animal, who can be promoted to be a perfect person? This is a deep-rooted and persistent desire to pursue truth, goodness and beauty.
And time is also a passer-by in people's lives, often unconsciously, he leaves quietly without leaving a trace. It is often after his death that people gradually realize that there is not much time left for themselves. It is precisely because of this that the ancients lamented: young people do not work hard, and the elderly are sad.
Time flies without a trace, goes quickly and comes quickly. Whether you can grasp time often determines the fate of a person's life. Tao Yuanming said: it is difficult to get up in the morning if you don't come back in the prime of life. It's time for people to encourage themselves when they reach middle age. Time goes by and waits for no one. Life is only a few decades, and it is difficult to achieve success and reach the peak in such a short time. It is precisely because of this that it is extremely important to cherish time.
Flowers in spring, wind in autumn, sunset in winter
Disappointed, young, I used to think so in ignorance.
Time took away the songs of the four seasons, and I sang them gently.
I grew up year after year in romantic poetry.
The story of running water took away time and changed a person.
For the first time in that sentimental and waiting youth.
Tayu Lo's songs have been sung for a long time because he sang the essence of time: how will time treat you and me? It depends on what we expect of ourselves.
Time, in your palm, flows away from your fingers. We wrote the story of time.
(2) Take the story of time as the topic of composition 800.
The time that used to be, is now long gone. Remember? That year? A boy gently picked you up with his strong arms and kissed your forehead deeply. A girl lay in the hospital bed in front of him, leaving tears of joy. Your appearance completely broke their quiet little days. From then on, they began to grow up. You made them grow up. Every day, their happiest thing is to learn you an interesting bedtime story, a nursery rhyme that suits you. Then teach you, make you laugh, think about your future and love, it won't last long. The most beautiful love is because of you, even if the throb of that year is gone, they will get closer, because that is affection and responsibility. Year after year, you have learned the two most beautiful terms in the world: father and mother. That year, you just learned to crawl. They recorded it excitedly with their cameras. That year, you learned to walk and even run happily, thinking that you no longer need their arms. That year, they walked into the park again, holding it tightly in their hands. Xiao you, remember he asked you, what do you want to be when you grow up? Astronaut? Scientists? Go to Tsinghua? Go to Peking University? Then I held you in my arms with a smile and said something like this. You must be promising when you grow up. Really, one day, did you say you would go to school by yourself? Does it mean that one day, you will sleep by yourself? Did you ever tell her to stop nagging? Did you say one day that you wanted the same thing as that child? Did you tell him one day that my business is none of your business? Is it true that one day, you never do your homework? Is it true that one day, you think they think too much about Tsinghua Peking University? Do you think you will be an adult one day? Did you have a big fight with them one day? Did you find out who you like one day? Was it that day that you made a group of friends you thought were lifelong friends? Really, one day, when they prepared a birthday menu for you, did you say you would spend it with your classmates? Have you ever hated them and even wanted to leave this house one day? Is it true that one day, you said that the school was in class and you went to the Internet cafe? Did you find yourself in love with the Internet one day? Still saving money to go to the internet cafe? Flush the equipment? Did you learn to smoke and drink one day? It's not because I'm good, but because I'm bravado for a while and I can't let it go anymore. Is it that one day, you drank too much outside and rummaged through your mobile phone, but there was no number to dial? Is it true that one day, you want to find a job outside, but you find life so painful and meaningful? Do they provide delicious food when you are hungry? Did they tuck you in when you were cold? Do they wipe away your tears when you cry? Did they show you the way when you were confused? Do they laugh when you are happy? Did they accompany you to the hospital when you were sick? Did they ignite your hope when you were desperate? When you grow up, do you feel warm when they hug you? They are, they are, they are, you are, and you are? But when you look back, time, streamer, backlight, those once forever have become forever. And that group of people, those heartless silly children who grew up with you ~ the partners who walked side by side, all parted after toasting and blessing.
(3) It is required to write a composition of 800 words with The Story of Time as the topic.
Blood-stained armor I shed tears to kill the enemy, the city was full of chrysanthemums, the palace was dusty, and life and death were scarred.
"Jing Ke, please wait a moment." The prince said: This handful of hometown soil represents your heart, where?
A sword represents your people, and you will always be a warrior of our country. Please. "
The wind blows in Shui Han, and a strong man will never return to the west.
Blood dyed the sword red, and Jing Ke's blood dyed the prince's sword red and opened the front.
This is the change of the country and the change of the sword.
A spit is half a prosperous Tang dynasty. Li Taibai's lofty aspirations and lofty sentiments are all in his poems and in his country.
The representative of Tang poetry is Li Bai, and Li Bai is the representative of the prosperous Tang Dynasty, full of momentum.
Chang' an fell, the country was broken, and only the mountains and rivers remained; Spring has come, and the sparsely populated Chang' an city is densely forested. This sentence came from Du Fu's heart, and how much ambition he could achieve in the late Tang Dynasty. Alas, in the end, he gave birth to his son early, shook his hut in the autumn wind and fell down at once.
This is the change of the country and the change of poetry.
West wind blinds, she is thinner than yellow flowers. She has been wandering all her life. She used to be a loving couple, and her husband died in battle. She can only sing the words "frown, but take it to heart"
Lying in the dead of night, listening to the wind and rain, Tiema Glacier dreamed of a land trip, dedicated to the country, and wanted to fight and kill the enemy when he was old. What a fearless gentleman, it's a pity that he can only dream. ......
This is a change of country and sentiment.
In the process of change, the search for swords, poems and feelings for the country are still changing, alas. ......
Keywords: story time story time story) time
Blood-stained armor I shed tears to kill the enemy, the city was full of chrysanthemums, the palace was dusty, and life and death were scarred.
"Jing Ke, please wait a moment." The prince said: This handful of hometown soil represents your heart, where?
A sword represents your people, and you will always be a warrior of our country. Please. "
The wind blows in Shui Han, and a strong man will never return to the west.
Blood dyed the sword red, and Jing Ke's blood dyed the prince's sword red and opened the front.
This is the change of the country and the change of the sword.
A spit is half a prosperous Tang dynasty. Li Taibai's lofty aspirations and lofty sentiments are all in his poems and in his country.
The representative of Tang poetry is Li Bai, and Li Bai is the representative of the prosperous Tang Dynasty, full of momentum.
Chang' an fell, the country was broken, and only the mountains and rivers remained; Spring has come, and the sparsely populated Chang' an city is densely forested. This sentence came from Du Fu's heart, and how much ambition he could achieve in the late Tang Dynasty. Alas, in the end, he gave birth to his son early, shook his hut in the autumn wind and fell down at once.
This is the change of the country and the change of poetry.
West wind shutter, she is thinner than yellow flowers. She has been wandering all her life. She used to be a loving couple, and her husband died in battle. She can only sing the words "frown, but take it to heart"
Lying in the dead of night, listening to the wind and rain, Tiema Glacier dreamed of a land trip, dedicated to the country, and wanted to fight and kill the enemy when he was old. What a fearless gentleman, it's a pity that he can only dream. ......
This is a change of country and sentiment. In the process of change, the search for swords, poems and feelings for the country are still changing, alas. ......
(4) I am anxious to write a junior high school composition with the story of time as the topic.
A composition, for reference only:
The Story of Time
Those forgotten in memory gradually settle down and become quiet and beautiful patterns in our hearts. However, when something really touches those memories, they will fly away like dust, and then the warm picture will come back to my eyes. There will be waves of sadness about passing away in our hearts, which will last for a long time.
When I read the article "Time flies like water", I really remembered my primary school days. Although the author's experience is different from mine, her article is a feeling caused by returning to the high school campus, but the feelings of missing the old alma mater, teachers, classmates and school time at that time are the same.
I seem to hear the laughter of my old classmates again. I close my eyes and imagine myself sitting in that familiar classroom, surrounded by you, him, her and them.
I hear you calling my name, a distant voice, and there is a vague tremor in my memory.
I heard the sound of his basketball landing, and I seemed to hear the sound of his sweat dripping during the running.
I heard her laugh, and the silvery sound got into my ears.
I heard them doing their homework quietly, and the sound of "rustling" spread in the air and became a still note.
I heard her talking on the podium about the math problem that made most people sleepy.
I heard him strike the table when he was angry.
I heard the wind whistling through the treetops.
I heard the music of eye exercises playing on the old school radio.
……
I heard you.
How can I see you again?
Sadness spread quietly, and I remembered the days when I was with you.
Sometimes it takes a long time to conceive a sentence, and then I look at the words I spent a lot of time writing, and I am satisfied and ecstatic.
Sometimes we spend little time thinking about the past, and then we look back sadly on our traces in those lost times.
If time is really like water, then please flow slowly and then slowly.
If time can go back, I hope to go back to the day we met. The story of time begins again.
In the story, there are moments when we are lost.
end
⑤ The story of time 800 words narrative graduation season.
We are going to break up today, and the nostalgic heart is really crying.
Three years, fleeting, we once again ushered in the graduation season. You'd never expect to see us calm now. Three years ago, we chased the handsome ninth-grade seniors on the playground. Seeing that we are United now, you won't remember that three years ago, we had a big fight over a trivial matter. Seeing us gradually mature now, you will never think of our childishness three years ago. Can we say that time has honed us? In fact, we may have lost our way and lost ourselves in the changes of time.
Students! Do you remember? A senior in the class once taught us: "We should study hard!" I still remember a "good boy" who doesn't study much every day but is in the top few: "Life should be fun, otherwise it will be in vain, and if you have youth, you should squander it!" Really? Or are students who don't study every day panting in class? I don't know which one you belong to and which one you yearn for, but I want to say: we have been together for three years and have never known each other. We have become bosom friends. We should be grateful for the wonderful and unforgettable memories this time has brought us.
Remember! From the shy conversation with the teacher every day when I first entered school, I learned to respond tactfully, from being crazy every day to being calm and calm. We have verified the constant changes in each other in the past three years, and time has also witnessed the process from strangers to even anti-feelings to good classmates, friends and girlfriends. Those crazy people who accompanied me in those years, I think, I will never forget them.
Dear students! In this graduation season full of sadness and joy, please cherish, dear campus, cherish, dear classmates, cherish, dear youth!
The next summer, the classroom was full of people, but unfortunately it was no longer us.
A story about time urgently needs an 800-word composition.
The Story of Time
When we grow up, we often think, what was I like when I was a child? In ancient times, we often didn't know what we were like when we were young, but in modern times, because of the camera, our wishes can be realized.
Open the photo album and an enlarged photo comes into view. Wearing a grass-green sweater, chubby little hands are kneaded into balls. Wearing a white hat with light blue lace, his eyebrows are sparse, and a small red circle is stuck between his eyebrows.
I don't know exactly what it is. I only remember when I was a child, I wanted to draw a red circle on the photo. ) the meat on the cheeks is piled together, the mouth is slightly open, and the eyes are confused. The words "Good luck" are written next to it. It should be when I was one year old.
Waiting for photos?
Turning to another page, a photo caught my attention. Yo, how about braids? The eyebrows are still a small red heart, and an unknown necklace is hung around the neck. The baby fat has disappeared. Behind it is the background of bamboo forest. I was standing on the ground, my center of gravity was unstable, and I was wearing clothes that looked like pajamas. Next to him is my two-year-old brother with a sword in his hand and his legs spread apart. Only a small part of hair was left in the front, and everything else was shaved off. Biting his lower lip, smiling shyly, cute and extraordinary. By this time, I should be five or six years old. My relatives said that I could sing and dance when I was a child. Of course, I was taught in kindergarten. I often hum the song of seven sons, accompanied by movements. But now I don't remember.
Turning over a few pages, I saw a photo of my childhood, which aroused my anger as a child. Remember, I had long hair when I was a child. But mom just cut her hair into a boy's hairstyle and looked in the mirror.
Hairstyle. She began to cry as soon as the corners of her mouth were flat. My mother ignored me and took me away directly. Later, my second sister coaxed me into taking pictures. It just stopped, but my brother was wearing a light green sling and his hat was upside down.
Put it on. With a small face upturned, people can't help laughing.
Looking back, Brother Xie said that this photo looks like a village girl, wearing a flower headscarf and carrying a basket, which is worthy of the name. I stared at the photo carefully. The clothes were rustic and the light was also a problem. It looks dark, and the cheeks are red and more prominent. When I was eight or nine years old, I was covered by the name village girl.
There is a big picture next to it. I remember this photo clearly. I have a mask of Pig Bajie, and my brother has a mask of the Monkey King. His eyes are red. Originally, I insisted on the Monkey King's mask, and I didn't want my younger brother, because I was robbed of good things at an early age. But because my brother cried in vain, I had to watch the mask be taken away cruelly. I can tell the twin sisters in the photo at a glance. The elder sister is more delicate, and the second sister is more heroic. There are also a few strange faces, which should be distant relatives.
Then there is a recent photo. I wear a uniform ponytail and a wig. When I was a child, my round face turned into a melon face. After post-treatment, my darker skin turned white. Wearing a pure white princess dress, holding the skirt in both hands and smiling brightly.
Photos record not only the appearance of childhood, but also the story of time.
⑦ Write a narrative of more than 800 words on the topic of "The Story of Time".
The floating clouds on the horizon, floating on the clouds at lightning speed, try to attract the attention of every flower and grass with their dazzling light-the yearning for childhood.
When I was a child, I always liked to hold a sweet lollipop in my left hand, pull up a corner of my skirt in my right hand, sway my body in the envious and yearning eyes of my friends, and listen to the ecstatic voices of my friends. However, a little sister next door proudly took out her beautiful bow from the closet, so she was surrounded by admiration and I heard her crying. I can only go home alone with the doll in my arms, muttering in her ear: "Only you know me best, I am the most beautiful and beautiful princess …" In this way, I spent my childhood troubles in narcissism and self-comfort.
The wind and clouds have gone, the wipers have withered, and clouds, thunder, the moon, stars and the majestic sky are all spreading their grand plans in my persistent and persistent handprints-my childhood dreams.
When I was a teenager, I always appreciated my personality and mood. In my clenched hand, I wrote a mixture of sweat and tears. The tiger's mouth firmly grasped the pen that had been stripped of paint, as if carrying the soul of the nation. The grandeur and fighting spirit in the brow added a great integrity to Pangu's creation. However, the struggle always exists! I am desperately competing to surpass all my opponents, but I obviously feel tired and smell shortness of breath and inadequacy. Hearing the criticism and ridicule of others, I suddenly felt powerless, as if I lost my steady pace, light body and wonderful blood flow for an instant and fell into a bottomless hesitation. I was looking for myself, but when I landed, I saw my heart clearly. I will redouble my efforts and pay. When the wings fall off, pick up the scattered feathers again, lift the dancing face and smile at the successful flowers and applause. So, I think, when I was a teenager, I used self-encouragement to relieve my troubles.
The colorful autumn of the British people is as gorgeous as the gloomy red clouds, which proves that my Buddha smiles clearly. Find a piece of bluestone and watch the vicissitudes of life ... wandering as an adult. As an adult, the more tired the heart is, the more eager it is to be moist and soft. To be precise, this is my youth. Right hand holding left hand, lingering in my heart, my heart just wants to be imprisoned in this wanton yearning forever. However, there is no eternal commitment. The sky is full of green glaze, so let it be, but also learn to leave each other and go their separate ways. When I turned around, I smiled naturally and sincerely. Gradually, in my youth, I turned around and turned around a few times, writing out my troubles and putting them aside.
Put on a pot of wine, drink, shake your head and face the day.
Another day-the pursuit of middle age.
When people reach middle age, they must persevere in everything. Repeated transactions, unfamiliar faces, solidified words, everything climbed up my brow and "feathered" into the first wrinkle. Worry, worry about career, worry about family, worry about yourself, look at the portrayal and silhouette of life, and recall that if you can drink some wine, the past can be a hangover. Let's put it this way, although "it's more worrying to drown your worries with wine", the worries after worrying are also "having a taste in your heart"! So, my middle age passed.
Sitting in an easy chair, shaking a few white hairs on my head seems to be inexhaustible after all-my old age.
Life is so lonely and prosperous. I am speechless. Only in one day can you count the regrets and regrets of your life. However, this kind of sadness, this kind of trouble, how also can't dispel! In this regard, my twilight years wavered like childhood, accelerating my troubles and ending with the word "enjoy".
Ah, if we look carefully, there are countless troubles in life. Although we were born in the 1990s, although the times are changing and developing, people's troubles will not change easily. Because human nature will never change. Perhaps, the mentality will be different, which is a sign of the development of the times.
This is the story of time.
⑧ Complete works of 800-word prose with the theme of time.
Those forgotten in memory gradually settle down and become quiet and beautiful patterns in our hearts. However, when something really touches those memories, they will fly away like dust, and then the warm picture will come back to my eyes. There will be waves of sadness about passing away in our hearts, which will last for a long time.
When I read the article "Time flies like water", I really remembered my primary school days. Although the author's experience is different from mine, her article is a feeling caused by returning to the high school campus, but the feelings of missing the old alma mater, teachers, classmates and school time at that time are the same.
I seem to hear the laughter of my old classmates again. I close my eyes and imagine myself sitting in that familiar classroom, surrounded by you, him, her and them. I hear you calling my name, a distant voice, and there is a vague tremor in my memory. I heard the sound of his basketball landing, and I seemed to hear the sound of his sweat dripping during the running. I heard her laugh, and the silvery sound got into my ears. I heard them doing their homework quietly, and the sound of "rustling" spread in the air and became a still note. I heard her talking on the podium about the math problem that made most people sleepy. I heard him strike the table when he was angry. I heard the wind whistling through the treetops. I heard the music of eye exercises playing on the old school radio. ……
I heard you. How can I see you again? Sadness spread quietly, and I remembered the days when I was with you.
Sometimes it takes a long time to conceive a sentence, and then I look at the words I spent a lot of time writing, and I am satisfied and ecstatic. Sometimes we spend little time thinking about the past, and then we look back sadly on our traces in those lost times.
If time is really like water, then please flow slowly and then slowly. If time can go back, I hope to go back to the day we met. The story of time begins again. In the story, there are moments when we are lost.
9. Write a 750-word composition about the story of time.
A composition, for reference only:
The Story of Time
Those forgotten in memory gradually settle down and become quiet and beautiful patterns in our hearts. However, when something really touches those memories, they will fly away like dust, and then the warm picture will come back to my eyes. There will be waves of sadness about passing away in our hearts, which will last for a long time.
When I read the article "Time flies like water", I really remembered my primary school days. Although the author's experience is different from mine, her article is a feeling caused by returning to the high school campus, but the feelings of missing the old alma mater, teachers, classmates and school time at that time are the same.
I seem to hear the laughter of my old classmates again. I close my eyes and imagine myself sitting in that familiar classroom, surrounded by you, him, her and them.
I hear you calling my name, a distant voice, and there is a vague tremor in my memory.
I heard the sound of his basketball landing, and I seemed to hear the sound of his sweat dripping during the running.
I heard her laugh, and the silvery sound got into my ears.
I heard them doing their homework quietly, and the sound of "rustling" spread in the air and became a still note.
I heard her talking on the podium about the math problem that made most people sleepy.
I heard him strike the table when he was angry.
I heard the wind whistling through the treetops.
I heard the music of eye exercises playing on the old school radio.
……
I heard you.
How can I see you again?
Sadness spread quietly, and I remembered the days when I was with you.
Sometimes it takes a long time to conceive a sentence, and then I look at the words I spent a lot of time writing, and I am satisfied and ecstatic.
Sometimes we spend little time thinking about the past, and then we look back sadly on our traces in those lost times.
If time is really like water, then please flow slowly and then slowly.
If time can go back, I hope to go back to the day we met. The story of time begins again.
In the story, there are moments when we are lost.
Attending to write a story about time with the family as the unit, and the junior high school composition is 800 words.
"Our campus ..." That day happened to be the school song competition. Every class sings with all their might, hoping for a jaw-dropping performance. Accompanied by the melody of the school song, I recalled the day when I first entered school. At that time, I was in a trance, but as soon as I saw the beautiful campus scenery like Xanadu, my uneasy heart immediately calmed down.
Stepping into the campus, the first thing you see is the ecological pond, a paradise for carp. The carp in the ecological pond are all alive and kicking, as if playing "carp yue longmen". At first sight, they were attracted by the "northern magic" and focused on this pleasing scene. From then on, whenever my mood fell to the bottom, I came here to make me relaxed and happy, just like a good medicine for my mood. There is also a small bridge on the ecological pool. Although the bridge is small, it makes me treasure it. People can not only walk, but also cross the two places, so that people can see fish more closely.
Go further, then there is the flag-raising square, surrounded by buildings, and next to the podium is where the national flag is. In the past, many revolutionary martyrs died in their graves for the sake of new China, including Qiu Jin, a female revolutionary. She has never wrapped her feet since she was a child, and she is not afraid even in the most dangerous moment. It can be said that she has not spared a man, and the national flag has their strong willpower to bleed without tears, and
If you go to the playground, the banyan trees around the playground are towering green. Regardless of the seasons, rain or shine, banyan is a good place for friends to talk about the land. No one is disturbed, there are always birds singing, so that people can enjoy the seemingly isolated time after school and tell each other their long-buried worries with their intimate friends. Are you happy? Sometimes I am indignant at my friend's experience, sometimes I can't help applauding a beautiful thing of my friend, and sometimes unexpected things happen. There are many real friendship stories under the banyan tree
Now the parking shed on campus has been demolished, although it is extremely sad, but the parking shed is too old to use after all, and now it is officially retired. No matter what it looks like in the future, it will be completely new, and different memories will be derived from this campus!
As long as you understand with your heart, what's wrong with the campus? In the future, we should cherish and maintain together, and everyone can take action to make the campus beautiful forever and leave many eternal memories for the years we have passed. Every corner here may become my treasure house of knowledge, and it may also weave more stories for my youth.