When I graduated from primary school, I once thought, what is the middle school I want to go to? Beauty or ugliness? This matter has been bothering me for a long time. Sometimes I don't even want to go to other schools, because my alma mater has always been the most beautiful in my heart. This is not my momentary idea, but all my thoughts in the past six years.
Before I came to Caihe Middle School, I didn't know anyone was behind the scenes. I used to be a frog in the well!
On the day I went to Caihe Middle School to report, I was shocked to see the gate of Cai Zhong. Even the gate is so majestic, the scenery there must have a different flavor. I entered the assigned class and found a pond downstairs. There are many small goldfish swimming around the pond, carefree. From that day on, I liked this school. There are many plants, animals and insects living here. I can get up early every day to read with the singing of birds. What a wonderful thing!
I will study in a picturesque poetic campus. Willow let the wind gently stroke beautiful long hair, willow branches flutter with the wind, and the young leaves dotted on the branches make people mistakenly think that they are dignified girls wearing emeralds; Fish play in the water, splashing ripples from time to time. Spring breeze caresses my face, with the fragrance of flowers, how beautiful it is. The campus is like a big garden, with May 4th flowers in full bloom. The school scenery is very beautiful. In spring, everything recovers, the grass shows its small head, the flowers are colorful, and the birds are singing happily on the branches; In summer, the leafy trees in the school play a great role. They can provide shade and birds can sing on them. In autumn, there are yellow leaves on the trees, and the world seems to be covered with a carpet, golden and beautiful.
How happy I am to have such a beautiful new school!
Nanxi river left me with the impression of clear water, beautiful mountains, strange rocks, beautiful beaches and beautiful forests.
In the morning, nanxi river looks quiet and beautiful under the veil-like mist. The river is crystal clear, like a blue ribbon flowing between two mountains. Castle Peak is shrouded in mist, reflected in the stream, like the shadow of a tree, floating in the water, and like a green snail in a silver plate. The geese in the sky are lined up in the word "people" for a while, and in the word "one" for a while ... nanxi river is like an ink painting, which makes people fascinated.
The sun rises quietly, shining on the river, golden, like pieces of fish scales falling from the sky, especially dazzling. At this time, the river became lively, and flocks of white geese and ducks were chasing and playing. That "giggle-giggle" cry seems to be playing a beautiful symphony. Ships come and go, big and small, all kinds, flowing like a shuttle.
At noon, the burning sun shines on the stream. The stream is like a lively girl, singing and dancing, shaking the roots of old trees, flapping the yellow-brown cliffs, stepping on the stones on the beach and running carefree. The fish in the water get together for a while, as if whispering; After a while, they separated, as if they were frolicking. Occasionally, a fish jumps out of the water, like a beating note on a stream, which is full of fun.
Between streams, there are beaches and forests. Flowers and trees are lush on the beach, and squirrels jump happily on the trees from time to time. Close your eyes, listen to the sound of water, smell the flowers and taste the sweetness of the stream, which is intoxicating. ...
After a while, the flaming clouds on the horizon came out. The sunset glow shines on the water, and the river turns red again, just like a girl's rouge, which is really poetic. Sitting down the river on the raft, I really enjoy the leisure.
People say that Guilin's landscape is the best in the world, but I want to say that Nanxi's landscape is the best in the world. Nanxi river is really the most beautiful place in my mind!
Before I came to Jida, I often heard people say, "The teachers in Jida are really strict, there is enough homework in Jida, and the competition in Jida is really great. Japan Industrial Design Association ... Listen, listen, I'm beginning to feel inexplicably uneasy about going to junior high school and attending Jida University. Is Jida really that terrible? Now unconsciously, the monthly exam is coming. After careful calculation, it has been almost 50 days since I set foot on the junior high school in Jida, only to find the excitement of junior high school.
Wonderful junior high school life, since we know the head teacher Feng Li. Teacher Feng Li, who has just been "dug" from Jilin, is humorous, confident and knowledgeable. The stick figure of a towering mountain peak on the blackboard was an unusual self-introduction of the teacher, which made me remember him at once! In class, the teacher quoted widely, which was vivid and interesting, with unique opinions, and attracted me more. There is also "cake every week"-the group he planned ranked comprehensively every week, which gave us more collective honors; "Assemble at 8: 30"-the daily announcement of rewards and punishments for QQ group makes us more self-disciplined; "Reproduction of violation of discipline"-The teacher took photos of self-study playing with mobile phones and scribbling them and sent them to the group, which made us worry. My mother once received photos of my scribbling homework, and even printed them out and posted them in my diary to remind me to be more serious! I wore a hat in the self-study class, and there were scraps of paper on the ground. I didn't finish the paper. When the teacher recited A Farewell to Cambridge, I secretly told an anecdote to my deskmate Xu Zhimo ... God, I tried to achieve the "goal" that the teacher joked at the parent-teacher meeting-allowing children to make mistakes, but the mistakes can't be made again! With teacher Feng Li, the wonderful mistakes in junior high school life are also wonderful.
Wonderful junior high school life begins with colorful extracurricular activities. Military training-classmates, teachers and lovely instructors eat together, live together, train together and study together. Although it is bitter and tired, it is fun. Teacher Feng Li also works as a photographer-sending photos of our training, dining, study and life to our parents every day! Look-that little photo, I am leaning on the class flag in one hand, holding my waist in the other, looking ahead, pointing out the country as cleverly as a political commissar, so handsome! It's raining, you don't train, are you happy? In the pouring rain, a group of naughty boys hid in the dormitory to play "pillow fight"! I forgot my spoon, and my careless mother only brought me a lunch box. Do you want me to "rob the rice"? Thank you for your friendship and sponsorship. Worried about our parents, they used the military training time to help us decorate the classroom and "secretly" sent us "food". For the first time, I feel that the ham sausage that I usually look down upon is delicious! Pack up your luggage, bedding, clothes and pillows, and stuff them all in. "crunch"-a good luggage bag, which tore a big hole when you came! There are countless embarrassing things. However, as the head of the dormitory, I lead everyone to clean the dormitory, take care of the sick classmates, and tidy the house from messy to orderly, never standardized to uniform when standing in a military posture ... I made the military training life into a newspaper "Unforgettable Military Training Class Five". In addition, there are grand opening ceremony, huge sports meeting, class cadre competition, class emblem design, comprehensive practical activities ... rich activities make my heart sweet.
Wonderful junior high school life begins with change. We have a skipping test once a week. Jumping rope is a nightmare for me. I have been extremely cold about this sport since kindergarten. I have no choice but to practice every day. From 0 to 73, the change of numbers makes me feel that persistence is the joy of victory. Also, I rented a 60-square-meter "humble room" near the school and got up at 5: 20 every day with the continuous ringing of the alarm clock. Write a subject assignment every night, as well as extra content assigned by parents. Make up classes every weekend. Every week, even every day, there are sudden tests and various sorts of sorting. These changes in schedule and ranking really make me feel helpless in the competition. Of course, there are also "acne" that often appear on the face inexplicably and are forced to shorten into "finger-high" hair, which brings me a lot of confusion. I have the confidence to work hard to adapt. Alas! Wonderful junior high school life is also wonderful.
There are joys and sorrows, sorrows and joys, relaxation and nervousness. The lens of time recorded my real junior high school impression-wonderful!
In the impression, there are sunflowers floating in my mind, pouring in my heart like sunshine, and the fallen leaves slowly remind me of that impression, and I can't give up more and more.
It is summer now, and a row of sunflowers in front of the window exudes a quiet and natural fragrance. In the morning, I sat by the window, holding a paintbrush, drawing my sunflower in this room full of summer breath. On the clear blue sky in the painting, several birds fly by, and the light yellow sunshine shines on the sunflower. Some bananas look up at the sky, others look down in thought. The golden petals are swaying in the wind, so harmonious and wonderful, I can't help admiring my paintings, and my eyes are full of happiness and pride.
"Today, I will take you to a place." Dad's words broke the original silence and pulled me out of pride. I went out with my father.
The car bounced up and down along the rugged mountain road. Suddenly, a brick house came into view. The house is small, but it smells clean and scholarly. I approached the house with curiosity. Through the clean glass window that exists like air, I saw several children drawing. I quietly walked into the classroom and looked at the paintings.
Suddenly, a painting attracted me.
Sunflowers, too. The golden sun shines on the whole earth, and several sunflowers stand here. They ran to the sun with their heads held high, as if smiling, but the paintings were uneven, and the sunflowers on the paintings were not as beautiful as mine. And I was surprised to find that the sunflower stood upright, giving people a visual impact and the strength to forge ahead, which was completely different from what I painted.
I opened my eyes wide and was shocked. I looked at the author who painted this picture. The girl has short and brittle hair and a pair of clear and bright hopeful eyes. There is a natural blush on the cheeks. The girl looked at me, a little afraid of strangers, but she smiled at me gently. I smiled at her, too, when she finished painting.
She looked at me timidly, with a glimmer of hope in her eyes: "I heard that sunflower means hope. Where there is the sun, it will pounce." Seeing that I listened to her patiently and kindly, she put down her formality and said, "Sunshine is our hope, our hope to get out of the mountains. Our teacher said that as long as we walk out of the mountains, we will develop in the village and live a good life. Therefore, we study hard, for ourselves and for our families. Walking out of the mountains is the direction of sunshine and struggle. "
Words full of local accent, firm ideals in my heart, I suddenly realized the true meaning of sunflower in my heart, and then understood what real painting is.
The girl's sunflower only exists in my impression, and the text is also sent to me.
Sunflowers standing upright are forging ahead; Sunflowers running towards the sun are hope; Sunflowers from generation to generation are always sunny, which is firm and persistent.
So are those children in the mountains.
From then on, I understood that there should be connotation in the painting. Sunflowers also grow in my heart, and the persistent pursuit of striving for ideals has also entered the impression, and the memory of sunflowers has remained in the impression.
Let me fight for my dream in this sunflower sea forever! Not afraid of wind, not afraid of rain ...
My first impression on the first day of the fifth year is deeper than the energy of starting school; I remember looking forward to the summer vacation and finally looking forward to the opening ceremony of the first day of junior high school. Who knows that the weather is not beautiful, and the school will be drenched into a "soup loser" when it starts in September. A good opening ceremony ended in discord.
Back in the classroom, the class teacher abruptly dragged me to tidy up. In the long run, the momentum in my heart will slowly fade away.
The next day, I washed several times in a hurry and ran to school. As luck would have it, I bumped into a classmate in our class. I have to say hello, right? But I really couldn't remember the man's name, so I smiled at her stupidly. I didn't expect her to stride into the teaching building like she didn't see me. I thought for a moment and came to the conclusion that I know others and others don't know me! This is also the "scenery" of the first grade.
I don't know why the school says so much. A single opening ceremony is not enough. I also devoted half a day to "ideological education" for our freshmen. Just a word of applause, ended in applause on September 2.
After two days of tossing, the class finally began. But you must applaud in class. Do you think, seven major subjects and eight minor subjects, that teacher doesn't introduce himself? After the introduction, don't you need to applaud? The first-grade teacher stood on the stage and gave a happy speech. After the lecture, a class passed. As a result, the teaching textbook was abandoned by the teacher under the desk three days before the start of school.
Such a big school and such a small canteen. The first time I cooked in the canteen, I ate a dumb loss. As soon as the school bell rang in the afternoon, I searched everywhere in the drawer and finally found the campus card. I ran to the canteen in three steps. As a result, only a few minutes later, there was a long queue in the canteen. After waiting for about ten minutes, I finally got a meal. At this time, the bell rang, so I had to take a few bites in a hurry, looked at the food reluctantly and ran back to the building.
When I panted back to my seat, my stomach was already singing "Empty City Plan". Then, sit on the bench and study at night. It is said that it is a night study. In fact, there was no hurry a few days ago. Many people bring their own comic books and read them with relish. Therefore, it is normal to be anxious in the first grade.
It's been a month since school started, and I'm used to ceremonies, big and small, and I applaud warmly. It's just different My energy has declined. Buried in the first grade, I worked hard with my classmates who couldn't name them at the beginning and the hidden first grade teacher for three years!
At the end of the summer vacation, my parents and I came to Xi.
Xi 'an, also known as Chang 'an, faces the ancient capital 13. The four most prosperous dynasties in the history of China-Zhou, Qin, Han and Tang-all established their capitals in Xi 'an. Its historical and cultural heritage is profound. The discovery of Yangguanzhai site in Xi 'an Gaoling pushed the urban history of China to the late Neolithic Age 6000 years ago, and confirmed that Xi 'an was the first city in the world history. Qin Shihuang unified China as a centralized feudal country, and the Terracotta Warriors and Horses were a considerable legacy left by the Qin Dynasty. During the Western Han Dynasty, Zhang Qian's mission to the Western Regions was the largest economic and cultural exchange with the West for the first time in the history of China. The Silk Road was famous all over the world, and its starting point was Chang 'an. Ganling in the Tang Dynasty and the place where Yang Guifei bathed in those days have become hot spots in today's tourism. Modern Xi events and other events endowed Xi with a red revolutionary history.
In my eyes, Xi is peaceful, quiet and vast. At night, I stand on the bell tower, and the whole city is simple and quiet in my eyes. In modern times, we are still advancing at our own pace, without a trace of panic. If my hometown Hangzhou is a song, then Ann is a book, a history book full of time. Time flies, thousands of years have passed, but it is still it, not bending, not catering, still standing!
The first impression composition 7 gently pushed open grandpa's old door decorated with mottled red paint, and a quiet orange fragrance came to my face, mixed with the taste of cherry. In the distance, there are beautiful lilies, small cypress trees standing upright, and an old hen peacefully nests in the haystack in a small hole under the laundry table. They are my close childhood playmates, the most precious memories in my childhood memory, like the illusion of time, which reminds me of thousands of thoughts again and again. ...
Every summer, what I look forward to most is picking oranges with my grandfather. As far as I can remember, she has never eaten golden oranges, so I never know when the oranges are ripe and when they are still astringent. However, my grandfather will take me to pick a bunch in order to make me give up. He is so tall that I can't reach the orange tree standing on the small bench. He reached out and touched it. Grandpa often picks one first, peels it off, throws a few pieces into his mouth despite my objection, and then makes an intoxicated expression: "Oh, how sweet!" " "At this time, my indignation came to my mind like a flood, as if the only orange in the world had been occupied by him. I was so anxious that I punched and kicked my grandfather, and my tears flowed. Until he cried, he pouted and pretended to be smart, begging him to pick it for me again. Oranges are sometimes sweet and refreshing, sometimes sour and bitter. When my grandfather cheated me, I couldn't wait to break up with him.
I still vaguely remember that in the early autumn of one year, grandpa's old hen built a nest and laid eggs in the haystack. From time to time, she uttered a few soft calls, "cough, wow, wow", "cough, wow, wow", and tirelessly repeated this monotonous melody. Grandpa stood by smiling happily, still chanting "good boy, good boy, coming, coming". But I am very unhappy, and I am thinking about how to treat her well-who let her bother me with that hoarse voice all day?
At noon that day, my grandfather went to Qiao Zhuang market to buy things, and my grandmother went to church, leaving me alone to lock the door. While my grandparents are away, I have a sophisticated abacus in my heart. What a good time! The chicken is quiet and seems to be taking a nap. I took immediate action and got into the small cave. "giggle! Giggle! " The chicken flew out from the back cave, and the pale golden feathers fluttered all over the sky, like a small feather fan in the sky, shielding me from the dazzling sunshine. I climbed out of the henhouse with my hands and arms full of egg yolk and egg white and stuck chicken feathers. Like a feathered savage, I chased the hen all over the yard, and the hen ran around like a frightened mouse. In a short time, the whole yard was in a mess.
"Oh, my little ancestor! What are you up to? Ah? " Grandpa flew into a rage at this mess as soon as he entered the door. "The hen laid a good egg, but you messed it up! Hurry up and clean up! " Grandma who heard the voice dragged me to the corner and asked me seriously. But I'll take a look at it first-Justice outside pursed his ass, put his head and hand into the hole in the hill to dig out the residue after the bombing, and the hen behind him pecked rice to eat. Looking at this ridiculous picture, I laughed regardless of my grandmother's serious questioning. The inexplicable grandmother also turned to look at it. "Ha ha ha!" Grandma actually laughed out loud, and her voice scared me. In this way, an embarrassing story ended in a series of laughter.
In grandpa's yard, I spent the best time of my childhood, where too much affection and friendship were buried.
When the road was to be built along the river, the yard was about to be torn down. At that time, grandpa's body had gradually weakened. A week after the demolition began, I came back from my adoptive parents' house and was not directly taken home by my mother, but made a detour to see the yard.
Soon, grandpa passed away. He never stays in his new home. As far as I remember, he left with the yard. When grandpa died, I was outside his ward. I thought I would be sad, but I smiled and comforted my crying brother Sambo. I told him that grandpa would always be there, with his yard, with our childhood, as long as we remember.