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The story in the photo is an 8-word composition

Everything can't happen and develop without the environment. Grasping the characteristics of the environment to write will render the atmosphere well, express feelings and make the article more vivid and touching. The following is an 8-word composition of the story in the photo I arranged. Welcome to learn from it!

The story in the photo is 8 words. 1

A photo records a story. A photo tells an experience; A photo evokes a memory; A photo is full of emotion. It is such a small and meaningful photo, an ordinary and unusual photo, which is worth my collection.

My favorite photo was taken in the living room on the third floor of my new home on the first day of January, 21. The photo clearly shows me sitting on the sofa with my cousin, grandparents and grandparents. I still have a big apple in my hand from the plate on the table in front of me. Every time I dig out this photo from the album, I still remember the story behind it.

It was the first day of the first month when I was two years old. My grandparents came to my house with my cousins, uncles and aunts. In the process of chatting, my father asked me to take a group photo with my grandparents and my cousins. Knowing where I was sitting, I hurried to find a reason to let my father go to the fourth floor with me first.

on the fourth floor, my father asked me what to do. I said to myself, "Why don't I sit in the middle?" "Because my cousin is the oldest of you three children, and you and my cousin are grandsons of grandparents, of course, you should be next to them." Dad replied. "But grandma is so old. If others see her, will she laugh at me?" "You are wrong to think like this," my father then taught me earnestly. "How can others laugh at you? Although grandma is old, she has gone through decades of hardships for our family to be happy today. As the younger generation, we should honor and love her. Without grandma, there would be no father, and without father, there would be no you! " I suddenly realized that I had made a mistake just now. If others see me sitting next to my grandmother in the photo, they will not make fun of me, but will think that I am a good boy who respects my elders and is full of love!

I happily went back to the living room on the third floor, walked briskly to the position where I took the photo, took a big apple with great respect and handed it to my grandmother. Grandma smiled and handed the apple back to me. She kindly said, "Grandma is old and her teeth are useless. My dear grandson's heart is appreciated. You'd better eat!" Then my father shouted, "Look at me!" I'm holding the apple my grandma left me and staring at the camera. There was only a click, and this wonderful moment stayed in the camera forever. After drying out the photos, I took them to plastic and collected them in an album.

A photo with such a story in it; A photo makes my thoughts fly back to ten years ago; A photo, give me a love education. It is such an ordinary and extraordinary photo that taught me to respect and love my elders. Only in this way can we make our life better, our family happier and our society more harmonious.

The story in the photo is 8 words. 2

The photo can freeze some happy, sad and exciting things, so that these things can be remembered forever.

I have a photo, which represents extraordinary significance. It is the last sports festival in the primary school life of our sixth-grade classmates.

In the photo, we can see a corner of the playground, where there are many students and teachers attached to the primary school of South China University of Technology. Perhaps serious students can notice that most of our classmates' expressions are very "sleepy". In fact, it is because we have stood for too long! Therefore, I lost the "majestic" of the past. On the far left of the photo, you can vaguely see the six characters "I exercise, I am healthy and I am happy", which is the purpose of our sports festival.

Maybe some people will ask, why are so many classmates and teachers standing on the playground "basking in the sun"? In fact, this is not sunbathing, but an entry ceremony that we must carry out every sports festival. However, this time, our class is not like before. All the students participate, and they also shout slogans and do actions. Maybe it's because we are sixth-grade students. The teacher only selected 2 students to participate, and removed the slogans and actions, only asking us to smile naturally.

When we entered the stadium, we were inevitably a little nervous. Everyone's back was quite straight, just like a commanding general. However, in the end, I saw that the conductor had been directing other classes, and our standing classes were "forgotten". We couldn't help but start doing little tricks: bending over, pounding our backs, kicking our legs ... < P > I thought we would enter the stadium soon, and then we could compete, but I didn't expect it to start after a long time. Alas, we were really worried. In the end, the sun disappeared, and we were almost dizzy ... Our eyes didn't look at all, which was quite different from what they looked like at first. So, there is this picture in the photo now.

fortunately, the conductor finally arrived! We are as excited as seeing water in the desert! When the instructor announced the entrance, our team entered the stadium in a mighty way, and we returned to our previous spirits.

Needless to say, the next thing is the headmaster's speech and competition!

This photo just captures our listlessness. Do we look like eggplants in the photo?

This is the end of the sports festival. Every time I see this photo, I think of every scene of the sports festival. I believe that this extraordinary sports festival will definitely stay in our beautiful memory forever.

The story in the photo is 8 words. 3

Nowadays, taking a photo is the easiest thing for most people.

Photos can be seen everywhere in our lives, which record every bit of life and present a microcosm of the world. But some of the stories in it are so thought-provoking and memorable that we can still remember them.

Every time I open the ninth page of the album, I see a photo of my cousin wiping my tears. Whenever I see it, I will remember how naive and naive I was when I was a child. Cry over a trifle. Although this little thing is nothing to me now, it was different when I was a child. That story happened in the late autumn a few years ago. My cousin always likes to wear a plaid shirt. His deep eyes seem to contain the vast Xinghai, and his black hair makes him even more dazzling. He looks like a modest son, but he is very clever and eccentric inside. When he is in the countryside for holidays, he always sets off firecrackers without saying a word to scare people. Sometimes people wander in the corridor pretending to be ghosts in the middle of the night, and people have to give way when they see it. But he is closer to me than his own brother, so I always call him brother. We often sit on the broad grass with dog tail grass in our mouths in the sunset, and I slowly realize that happiness is a kind of quiet beauty, watching the sinking sunset, watching the vast open lawn, watching the sky decorated with rosy clouds … that kind of happiness is so simple and so close at hand.

Every girl has her own fairy tale and princess dream, and I am no exception. And the prince who guards himself is the person around him. But this fairy tale also has an ending, a sad ending ... The news that my cousin is going back to school has been lingering in my ears. My sense of happiness seems to have fallen into autumn overnight, like yellow leaves in autumn, scattered all over the floor in bits and pieces, and rolled up by the bleak autumn wind, feeling dizzy and lonely in the air, and landing painfully. I shut myself in my room and cried. He opened the room and walked in front of me, squatted down, touched my head and said, "Smelly girl, why are you crying?" I will come back again. " The first time I heard him call me "smelly girl", I stopped my tears and let him stretch out his hand to wipe them off. "Come on, take a picture!" Taking out the camera, he smiled faintly, with a bright smile and a hint of sadness. He left quietly in a few days, leaving nothing behind. I just found out that the fairy tale I created by myself is a castle without doors. The prince came and went, went and came again, watching me grow up and accompanying me through my childhood.

I touched this photo carefully, trying my best to remember my story about my cousin. I hope the story will end with an ellipsis, just like the irrational number in mathematics, which will never be endless. Even if my hair turns white and my teeth fall out, my reading glasses are changed again and again, I can still write a composition of 8 words in the photo. 4

Today, I opened my photo album, which is eye-catching.

I remember that it was last spring. After the teacher told us that we were going to have a picnic, we all jumped for joy. On the first day, the teacher divided us into groups and reminded us of what we wanted. The next day, we came to school with our own things, some carrying iron pots, some carrying firewood, some carrying bowls, chopsticks and seasoning for cooking ... < P > When we came to the river, the teacher first told us to pay attention to safety, and then we each found a flat ground to dig a hole for cooking. Because we are too young and inexperienced, the pit we dug is either big or small, or deep or shallow. Later, with the help of the teacher, we dug two pits as stoves and put them on the pan smoothly. One cooks and the other cooks. After we cooked the rice, scooped the water and scoured the rice, Wang Xiaoming started to burn the fire. He lit a handful of hay and put it in the stove. As a result, the fire went out, so he put his head to the mouth of the stove to blow it. The smoke suddenly made him cry, so he rubbed his eyes with his hand. As a result, a big painted face made everyone laugh.

Wang Xiaoming is responsible for cooking and we are responsible for cooking. We are going to cook a lettuce fried bacon, a fried carrot and a tomato and egg soup. We have to peel the lettuce first. It's really hard to peel the lettuce. We peel the lettuce so badly that it looks ugly. Carrots are cut into big ones, small ones, thick ones and thin ones. Fortunately, there is no need to cut the bacon. The adults cut it for us. When everything is ready, we pour oil into the pot. The teacher told us that we can't pour vegetables until the oil smokes. When we saw that the oil was smoking, we poured the cut lettuce into the pot, and only heard a "beep". Small oil beads splashed all over our faces and hands, which made us feel dull. Then, Zhang Qiang quickly scooped up a spoonful of salt and put it in the pot, and poured the bacon in it. At this time, the smoke made us unable to open our eyes, so we had to run to one side and turn over the dishes from time to time. About ten minutes later, the first dish was finally cooked by us, and we were all very happy, so we made another effort to stir-fry carrots and cook tomato and egg soup.

It's time to taste the fruits of our own labor. We invited the teacher to taste them together, but the result was unexpected: the fried bacon with lettuce was salty, the carrot was weak, and the tomato and egg soup was less, just like braised pork. We were all disappointed, and the teacher comforted us and said, "Yes, this is the fruit of your own labor. It's not very good this time. Learn from experience and I believe you will do well next time. " After listening to the teacher's words, we ate happily again.

The story in the photo is 8 words. 5

When I open that old photo album, my eyes will stay on this photo, and I will look at this photo quietly, without saying anything, but my mouth is slightly raised, immersed in beautiful memories.

It was autumn in my hometown. Looking at the distance, there were soft sunsets, gorgeous sunsets, mountains lying not far away, clusters of villages built by mountains, and smoke from the roofs of houses rose.

in the distance, there is a golden paddy field, accompanied by the joy of harvest, like a bent farmer's uncle, flaunting the simplicity of farmer's children with the most popular healthy skin color. Look at those full grains, like beating notes. A night breeze blew, and the rice fell like a golden ocean. On the edge of the rice field, there are rows of towel gourd racks, and the melons are covered with golden yellow flowers, which are particularly beautiful against the green leaves. Hard-working bees are humming songs and collecting honey from flowers. On the green pumpkin ground next to the towel gourd shed, big pumpkins lie on the arms of Guaman's mother like fat dolls, and the afterglow of the sunset gently caresses them and urges them to sleep. Ants are often seen, of course. There are a group of small ants lined up neatly, holding the newly discovered food home while it is still dark! Look at this. One or two little beetles are humming and flapping their wings. Maybe they are looking for a comfortable home. Of course, I can't forget the singing cricket. It's grasshoppers that jump around quietly. Earthworms walk under the soil. Butterflies flap their wings in the flowers. Frogs sing by the pool. Naughty little fish can't stay any longer. They jump out of the water to see the beautiful scenery in the sunset, leaving only crystal water beads to pounce on the mother's arms. Finally, they slip into the pool and make ripples.

There is also a special scenery in my hometown-the spring on the side of the mountain. It is natural. It flows down from the top of the mountain, past the big stones at the foot of the mountain and into my pond. The spring water is clear and transparent, cool and delicious. Because of too long time, many watermarks were left on the big stone, and some moss grew on the stone, which dressed the stones in turquoise clothes. According to the adults, people used to come here to wash clothes.

When the sun sets, the scenery is very beautiful. A series of flaming sunset clouds are smeared on the edge of the sky. Immediately, the burnt-out river pours the orange-red afterglow on the soft and elegant greenery in the garden. In a moment, everything around is dim, the leaves quietly bow their heads, and the grass prostrates its head to the ground. Everything is silent.

"Hey, hey, come and look at my photos." Cried mother, waving her hand. I rushed over to have a look, yes, it was the field in my hometown in the photo.

This photo not only left the beautiful scenery of my hometown, but also reminded me of my childhood.

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