It's sunny at noon, scorching sun at noon, scorching sun at noon, scorching sun at noon.

At noon, the sun is scorching, there is no wind, leaves are drooping, cicadas are screaming, the earth seems to be in a steamer, and there is no pedestrian on the road.

Smoke is curling in the distance, and every household is cooking lunch. Plumes of smoke rose straight into the sky without a trace of wind.

At noon, the sun shines brightly on the leaves of the grain, cicadas are on the trees, grasshoppers are on the crops, flapping their wings and calling for the .4zj parent-child resource network.

At noon, there is no wind under the scorching sun. The yellow dog sticks out its tongue, the chicken hangs its wings and the cicada keeps barking, which makes people feel more bored.

At noon, when the sun scatters its strongest light and spits out all the heat, the snow on the vilen sinks and shrinks gradually, which seems brighter and reflects dazzling white light, making people dizzy.

Paragraph:

In the afternoon, the sky was blue and gray, and the fierce sun scorched the ground. A south wind blew and rolled up a heat wave. Cicada calls in the tree, with a low and slow voice, as if telling an old story. The old people sat in the shade, patiently shaking their fans, cursing the heat and talking happily about how the weather is good for rice. It seems that I am dreaming of a "bumper harvest". In midsummer, the wind doesn't blow, the birds don't crow, the cows don't move, the valley is dead silent/the heat at noon, there is not a cloud in the sky, there is not a breeze in the space, the air seems to be stagnant/at noon, the hot sun is on the head, the weeds are sleeping in the heat, and no one dares to walk in the sun/at noon in this summer, the mirror-like water surface reflects strong sunlight.

Composition: "Winter jasmine"

At noon, the sun shines vertically. The Huanglei River is sparkling, and the clear water surface shines like carp. With the breeze, water vapor drifted to the villages along the river. The roof of the village is basked in the warm spring sun, and it smells dry and burnt. Cool steam regulates the taste of dry coke, which is comfortable and comfortable.

Rickshaw Boy

Evening: the summer evening is warm and beautiful, like an elegant young woman; Wear colorful skirts, close your temples and gently hold them up; Elegant and elegant.

The sky is light blue, and sometimes there are clouds, which are like white cotton wool. The breeze blows their soft bodies and sings softly all the way. You look down at the roadside, green grass and flowers are blooming, and then look up, and the cotton-like white clouds have become "ponytails" and scattered into the sky. ...

The setting sun is like blood and the sun shines all over the sky.

I like summer nights best, beautiful and intoxicating, gorgeous! That fiery red cloud hangs over the western sky like a colorful watercolor painting. At first, it was a goose yellow background, with a faint orange red color; Add a light blue ribbon on the orange-red basis; One end of the ribbon is completely unfolded, and a wide bloody silk scarf gradually floats to the horizon ... thus setting off the sunset more bright red and gorgeous.

In the twilight, the distant mountains are as gloomy and magnificent as Adai's. In the boundless space, I saw two poplars and pine trees standing on the top of the mountain. The breeze is swaying their branches and leaves, and they are more vigorous and tall against the sunset glow. The swaying branches and leaves show the afterglow of the sunset. I saw the mottled sunset hanging on the treetops and falling bit by bit. I quickly picked up the digital camera and froze it. Bang! Beautiful silhouette-tree: like a man with indomitable spirit, he walked into my "shutter" ...

The mountains in the sunset are dignified and majestic, which fascinates me!

As the night deepened, the sunset finally failed to stand the time and fell into the valley. The top of the mountain devours the last afterglow. Looking at the sunset, I sighed "to see the sun, for all his glory, buried by the coming night". The beautiful sunset is so spectacular, but it is a flash in the pan. The day replaces the sun and the moon. What about life? Everyone is from childhood, youth, maturity to old age. Where is everyone's sunset? Will it be so brilliant? Time flies, flowers bloom and fall, and youth never comes again!

The night is getting dark. I don't know when the crescent moon has quietly hung in the sky. The lights are on and the neon lights are flashing. The corner with few pedestrians is crowded now. Usually I am most afraid of crowds, so I bent down and ran to the secluded path and went home.

At this point, the streets are gradually full of people and traffic. The metropolis was plunged into a prosperous night. Bypassing the bustling crowd, I set foot on the path. There are soft weeping willows here. There is a faint scent of grass here, a thick cordate telosma here, and a charming fragrance floating in the evening breeze. ...