About my nostalgic composition 600 words 1
Simple alley, silence in the shallow years. In retrospect, it's still the same. It is dusk, and the alley gradually fades away from the activities of the day and becomes quiet, only to be filled with its uneven stone road by the heavy dusk, and the osmanthus trees sing softly in the dusk, expressing their long-cherished thoughts.
The gentle light dozed on his shoulder, and there was silence around him, raising the land. Not far away, there was a long tinkling car bell, intertwined and unfamiliar. The bell rang all the way, carrying the twilight and becoming more crisp and tactfully. The little girl's face is full of joy. Her tender little hand quietly grabbed grandma's skirt and was suddenly uneven. Her little hands tightened, and her white face nestled on grandma's slightly bent back. A couple rode leisurely through a dark alley, accompanied by bells jingling all the way. ...
As real as fantasy, tears filled my eyes in an instant, and memories came back, memories I miss. ...
In this misty silence, a silvery voice echoed, making me look back and walk back to my long-lost homesickness. ...
Osmanthus fragrans is wandering quietly between heaven and earth in a lazy afternoon. The bells all the way suddenly fell in the drunken afternoon, strung and rippling in the alley for a long time. We rode under the osmanthus tree, bypassed a corner and enjoyed a quiet afternoon. I sat quietly in the back seat, holding your skirts gently with my little hands, tightly, which was my childhood anxiety and bondage. The stone road is uneven and the wheels are bumpy. We left a deep and shallow mark in the alley. You sang a beautiful song. Looking back, let me sit in peace. My shallow smile between the eyebrows is so kind and gentle. Under the sweet-scented osmanthus tree, our figure passed by, leaving only the sweet-scented osmanthus that fell on our shoulders, leaving all the way with fragrance and disappearing from the long memory. ...
It is in the dim moonlight night that the faint sweet-scented osmanthus lingers on the nose. When we came back from the theatre, the bell rang all the way. Jingle bells, the silence of the night crept up and drowned the bells. Dark colors came from all directions and the tide enveloped us. The moon put on makeup at night, and Ying Ying went to the branches, floating like goose feathers, and drew half a lotus flower on rice paper. It's quiet around, it's pure quiet. I'm a little timid. Insects are singing, starlight is falling, and my skirt is getting tighter and tighter. Facing the dark earth, you seem to feel the fear of a child, so you sing beautiful songs to drive away the fear hidden in your heart, and the bell jingles all the way with the soothing accompaniment at night. "The sky is low in the dark."
This is exactly what I miss, but now, it is just a memory.
The little girl and grandma strolled through the simple alleys, and osmanthus flowers fell one after another. Grandma, I miss that tinkling bell all the way, that lazy afternoon, that watery moonlight, that deep and shallow stroll with you, in the silent alley, on the bumpy stone road, in the deep memory. ...
About my nostalgic composition 600 words 2
"I am willing to break the stone for grass."
-inscription
When I was a child, my greatest pleasure was climbing stairs to the roof. When the adults were not careful, they ran to the end of the ladder and climbed to the roof.
The house in my hometown is very special. This is a stone bungalow. There is a square pit (patio) in the middle of the flat roof. Usually, once adults can't find me, they will habitually look up and see two calves hanging there from time to time. After a reprimand, the punishment of standing in the corner is inevitable. ...
In this way, I found new fun. I dug up the sand in the corner bit by bit, wrapped it in paper, took it to the roof over and over again, put it in the corner and irrigated it with water. After accumulating day after day, the sand became more and more, and finally it became a pile. In places where the sun can't shine, in places where water is abundant ... a layer of moss grows unconsciously.
This gave me great encouragement and I began to "steal soil" in the fields. I came to the field carefully, grabbed a twist and ran, climbed onto the roof, spread it along the moss, and looked after it carefully. Sometimes I play too much with bugs when I watch them, and I am reprimanded when I am found. But the moss didn't spread, and my worries were gradually worn away. In a rage, I never went to the top of the building again, and turned and ran to find the children in the village to play.
Later, I returned to the city. A few years later, the old house was demolished, and it was said that an oil refinery would be built there. The house next to the old house is constantly changing, and many people in the village have moved away one after another. Only my old house stayed the longest, blowing the sea breeze alone. Times are changing, old houses can't bear it, and finally they can't escape the fate of being demolished.
I remember standing on the roof, and I could clearly see several fields nearby. Green seedlings fluctuate with the wind, and the air is mixed with the fragrance of earth ... They all say, "If you don't fight for three days, you will go to the house to uncover the tiles." I often knock on the roof with my neighbor's children, or pour water into the patio to shower passers-by ... The old house carries a lot of joy, and when I think back to those days, I can't help but feel lost. Old houses disappeared, small villages developed, low bungalows disappeared, and brand-new small foreign buildings were built. People no longer like old houses, and the children sitting on the roof every day are gone. They stayed in the deep memory with the old house and disappeared quietly. I know that the roof is destined to live and die with the house, and I can't stay.
Now there is a railway track passing through the old house, and the last old house in the village is gone, and the "rural flavor" is gradually drifting away, but I still miss that old house and those happy days.
Moss under the eaves, where are you?
About my nostalgic composition 600 words 3
On April 5, 20 18, grandpa Li, a neighbor, died at the age of 82. Although Grandpa Li has been away from us for more than a year, his voice and smile have been deeply imprinted in my mind. In the past, he loved me as if it were yesterday.
Tomb-Sweeping Day came, and my father took me to the canteen to buy sacrifices. I chose some foods that Grandpa Li loved to eat before his death. Then my father took me to the grave. I stood there, looking at the photos of Grandpa Li, remembering the good times with Grandpa Li, and couldn't help crying.
I remember when I was a child, Grandpa Li would take me with him every time he went fishing. That day, we sat on the bridge and fished as usual. I sneaked into the forest while Grandpa Li was absorbed in the fishing rod. The air in the forest is fresh and sunny, and there are many birds, including thrush and cuckoo. At this time, I heard Kaka's voice ... I looked around and looked for the source of the voice. I looked for a long time before I saw a big bird pecking at the trunk. So I picked up a stone and prepared to hit it like that big bird. I don't know when grandpa Li stood behind me and whispered, "This is a woodpecker". It is a useful bird. It can treat trees and eat moths on them. People call it "forest doctor", who lives in dense forests all the year round, is the patron saint of forests and a good friend of mankind, so we should cherish it. At some point, Grandpa Li walked out of the Woods behind my back. Grandpa Li also told me a lot about woodpeckers. When we walked out of the Woods, we found it was dusk. Grandpa Li took me to the store, bought me cakes and many snacks I like, and then we went home.
Flowers quietly thank, and the flowers that thank are gone forever, just like a person's life has gone, and they can never come back, but they can be missed. Grandpa Li thanks you for your love and concern for me. Wind! Please blow my words to grandpa Li in the sky. Give it to grandpa Li in the other world!
About my nostalgic composition 600 words 4
I will never forget the night of July 5, 20 19. It's terrible. I want to make it longer so that my grandmother can spend more time with me, but no matter how I pray, the sun at dawn is on the horizon. At 5 o'clock in the morning on the 6th, the disease separated me from the people who loved me the most and I loved him the most in the two worlds. Grandma's 62-year life journey ended.
Grandma was born in the bitter old society and suffered the hardships and pains of poor life with many people. Hard living conditions have created grandma's strong and unyielding will and character.
Grandma has a sister and a brother. Their home is in Wushan County, Gansu Province. I heard from her before that when she was 19 years old, she came to Shaanxi with her sister, and then she met my grandfather. Her sister married herself to Shaanxi in order to take care of each other.
My grandparents have three brothers, and he is the eldest. According to my grandmother, she suffered a lot after marrying my grandfather, but no matter what happened, she tried to face it. After more than ten years of marriage, she has my uncle, my aunt and my mother. But because of the family planning policy at that time, she had to send a child out. She only has one son, my uncle, so she chose between my aunt and my mother and gave my mother to her sister. She said that my grandfather seldom took care of children at that time, so my grandmother brought up two children by herself. In a blink of an eye, my mother, my uncle and my aunt all became families, and my uncle also had his own daughter, which was very lovely. Grandma's life at this time is also very easy, helping her uncle take care of the children every day and enjoying family happiness.
The good times didn't last long. When my grandmother was still immersed in the laughter brought by her granddaughter, she was diagnosed with terminal cancer. At that time, my uncle and aunt had only been married for more than two years. My family said that no matter how much money I spent, I must cure my grandmother's illness, but in the end, the money was spent and everyone left. ...
This is undoubtedly a heartbreaking pain for our family. We hope she can stay with us for a few more years, but the dead are gone, celestial beings. The only thing we can do now is to honor grandpa while he is still alive and give him more companionship and care.
Grandma lived a frugal life all her life. This is inseparable from her previous living environment and conditions. Grandpa can't be like grandma in life, so that there will always be a war of words between them. Take eating as an example. Sometimes, grandma cooks a meal and grandpa is not satisfied. My uncle usually works in Guangzhou and only comes back once during the Chinese New Year. There are only two people in the family, grandparents. Almost every meal will be left over. At that time, they had a puppy at home. My grandfather told my grandmother to throw out the leftovers and feed them to the dog, but her grandmother's character decided that she wouldn't do so. She will still eat all the leftovers at the next meal. Sometimes I advise her not to eat them, but she always says it is a serious waste. When her family is around, she always wraps up everything that others don't like! "Don't throw this away, you can still eat it while it is hot." Grandma said this sentence for most of her life.
Besides eating, grandma is frugal in other things, and her frugality left a deep impression on us. I know that thrift is the traditional virtue of our Chinese nation, and grandma is a good example for our family at this point! I firmly believe that our family will pass on this virtue of grandma and carry it forward.
We just had the final exam on the day grandma died. I regret not seeing her for the last time. I regret not caring more about her and spending more time with her when she was still alive. Every time I see her portrait, I always see the scene with her in my mind. Grandma is an industrious, kind and simple peasant woman, but it is thousands of peasant women like her in Qian Qian who have created thousands of beautiful families in Qian Qian and gathered into our harmonious and happy society.
Dear grandma, I miss you ... May you be safe and happy in heaven!
About my nostalgic composition 600 words 5
He calls himself an "old father-in-law", probably because of the sentence "old father-in-law talks about teenagers"
At that time, he was almost obsessed with Chinese.
His rough voice often reminds me of Lao Du in Zhang Xiaofeng. His voice is hoarse and fierce, and his pronunciation and intonation are very similar. But his tone still smells like a child's levity, quite brave and ignorant.
Maybe it's because his voice is very different from ours, which makes him feel a little stand out in the class.
I remember, I was reciting Cao Cao's "Although I Return to Life", and it happened that he was reading "Romance of the Three Kingdoms". Hearing my stuttering voice, he jumped up, grabbed the page of poetry on my desk and held it in front of my eyes. In his hoarse, heavy voice, he read: "The old horse crouches and aims at a thousand miles. In the year of martyrs, go forward bravely. " After reading, he leaned back excitedly, waved his hand on his chest, his body trembled suddenly, his voice was all around, and the door next to him ached. Then, take a long breath, lean back and stand up straight. I looked at him, shaking with laughter. He is serious and tight-faced: "I'd better be Cao Cao, so I should read it like this at this time." With a wave of his hand, he turned and staggered out, leaving only a handsome and frivolous figure.
He is always like this, reading poetry as if he were there.
Naturally, his eloquence is excellent because of his passion for Chinese. I've been dragged on stage many times to give speeches. I laughed and joked that he was the next "_ _". He doesn't care whether he arrives or not. He smiled and replied: "I must hold a" Boutique Three Kingdoms "in the future." Every word he said was sincere, and he really answered the sentence "aim at a thousand miles away."
Maybe everyone has studied Chinese, and my relationship with him is familiar.
I remember one time I missed my lunch because of business, and I sat in my seat hungry. He sat at my front desk, turned around and grabbed the bowl. "I'll help you with such a small thing." I don't know where he found it, just when he thought he had nothing. He ran back panting and stood at my desk. "Hey, here you are." Bow your head, the bowl is still steaming. Looking up, he was about to thank him. He curled his lips and waved. "Hey, old lady, this is' a gentleman's honesty, putting his ancestors before himself'." No need, no need. "Is still a hoarse voice, with shortness of breath. The tone of his voice is still rising briskly, and his eyes under heavy eyebrows glow with the warmth of "modest gentleman" under the sunlight.
With his unique China temperament, he set off a wave in his class. He was all-powerful, young and frivolous, and spent six years vigorously.
Later, two months later, I saw him again. He was already a proud and frivolous teenager. Perhaps time stole the frivolous attitude of youth, leaving only the loneliness and stability of growth. His eyes are not as bright as I am familiar with.
Well, I haven't heard the "old man" in my ear for a long time. It's too quiet. On such a rainy afternoon, I miss him and his hoarse voice, accompanying my favorite language when I was young.
About my 600-word nostalgic essay;
1. 600-word composition on nostalgia
I miss writing 600 words.
3. A 600-word composition about remembering my grandfather.
4. A 600-word composition on nostalgia.
5.600-word nostalgic narrative composition
6. miss the excellent composition of 600 words
7.600-word excellent composition on nostalgia.
8. Write a story about me in 600 words.
9. A 600-word composition about missing.
10. Missing my alma mater for 600 words.