Ask for an essay strategy for the scenery that remains in the bottom of my heart .

I have always thought that the most beautiful scenery is in the distance - the most open sky is in the Inner Mongolia prairie, the weakest poetry is the south of the Yangtze River, and the integration of the sea and the sky is ...... at the ends of the earth

faint colors, looking forward to it in quiet memories; Quiet sounds, lingering in the wet rain; The warm sun is watching under the blue sky. Suddenly, the scenery that had remained in my heart became quiet.

The scenery that remains in the bottom of my heart is a colorful sky. The sky, listening to the singing of newborns, listening to an inextinguishable lamp of life; In the sky, the flowers and trees of youth were seen hanging their pale sideburns, quietly peeking at the worn-out old shoes and staggering away; The sky, reflecting the couples holding hands with each other, is immersed in the magpie bridge of Tanabata. The intertwined scenery under the sky, let the time wander in the sea, it is so peaceful.

The scenery that remains in the bottom of my heart is a lovely hometown. The bridge bent into a bend is quietly reflected on the surface of the lake; Walking through the bluestone slabs of the old street, I left a lingering sentimentality in my heart; The mottled brick walls on the roadside are dotted with moss. Hearing someone's melodious singing, the wind chimes by the door shook and tinkled.

Counting the scenery at the bottom of my heart, the signature of the wonderful picture is called "home".

The scenery that remains in the bottom of my heart is a simple fantasy. At night, I thought in my sleep that I had a pair of wings, flying out of the cage of bondage, flying out of people's field of vision, looking for it in the confusion of boundless growth. The scenery of growth, diffuse, passing in time, but constantly existing, is so intriguing.

It turns out that the most beautiful scenery is around you and in the bottom of your heart.

Wildflowers are abundant and fragrant, and the seeds sprout at the moment; Jiamu is beautiful and cloudy, and the notes are woven in that moment; The wind and frost are noble, and the fallen leaves have vitality again in that second; Whoever comes out of the water, the dream sets sail in that season. The scenery of the four seasons remains in the bottom of my heart, so long, so quiet.

The scenery that remains in the bottom of my heart.

There are always some landscapes in the world, they are endlessly evocative, lingering, and at a certain moment in life give people a deep touch, and this scenery left in my heart is also so unforgettable, meaningful, it is my mother's dear testimony.

It was a snowy morning, I was six years old, and I was playing with my friends on the snow in front of my house, and when I glanced at it, I felt someone looking at me upstairs, and when I looked at it, it was my mother, and I called out impatiently: "Mom, what do you see, I'm playing!" Mother quickly closed the window, and it seemed a little embarrassed

It was another snowy morning, I was eleven years old, sitting in the snow in front of my house reading a book, the article was about maternal love, I subconsciously looked up at the window, and saw my mother closing the window very nervously, for fear that I would see her, at that moment, my heart trembled, and I couldn't tell the taste

Since then, I have been paying attention to that window, and every time I go out of the house, I always have to look back at the window - the window is closed, but I know that there is a loving mother behind the window, and I can imagine the smile on her face when she sees me looking back, and the scenery is beautiful

Riding past the door, the window was opened, I saw my mother leaning against the window, looking through the crowd with her eyes, watching for something, her face was full of anxiety - although separated by a narrow alley, the face was exceptionally clear I looked at her, she didn't see it, her figure seemed lonely and helpless, the white hair that I hadn't noticed before also filled my vision in an instant, she had always refused to let go of her habits for many years, the love that I had not understood, at that moment, I burst into tears, love has no weight, But I have been straddled

A mother's love is like an umbrella that shelters us from the wind and rain. A mother's love is like a book, which needs to be read with our hearts. A mother's love is like water and does not contain any impurities.

A mother's love is everywhere, and love is not humble because it is small. It shines like the sun on my heart, so that I am no longer cold in winter, and I am reminded of a song when I look at my mother: "Lying on your shoulder can whisper; Lean on your bosom and come home; Holding your hand, the wind and rain are not afraid; Listen to your song and dream of flowers ......”

The car moved forward slowly, and the appearance of my mother leaning against the window and watching became a painting, gradually moving away from me, but I knew that the appearance of my mother leaning against the window and watching would be the most beautiful scenery in my heart The scenery is precious, just like sipping black coffee, only after tasting it with my heart, can I understand that it is so bitter.

Don't copy them all, just give them some points.

Starting from actual life, feel the scenery around you with your heart, and I believe you will write a good article

With heavy makeup on the night, the bright moon is more graceful and ethereal in the light and ethereal mist, the innocent scenery passes by, and the moment of breathing, the memory is quietly fixed in the bottom of my heart. The so-called tears are buried, and the taste of youth gradually brews an eternal happiness. It was an eternal dream and emotion in my heart.

The scenery left in the bottom of my heart is the sincere and pure flowers of friendship that gently sprout between the soil plaster, and the cold wind tears a crack, and the flowers bloom soundly. On that day, on my birthday, I was alone in the corner waiting for a secret, and only she knew about my birthday, but I couldn't help but feel sad when I saw the wind blowing the dark shadows of the trees and drifting purple on the ground. Did she forget?

Does she still love me? The empty set left me alone to stage a pantomime like a puppet, and suddenly left, her fingertips miraculously had a more fragrance of body temperature, and her eyes burst with joy between them, she stood silently aside, the corners of her slightly cracked mouth rose slightly, "Happy birthday!" Daredevil!

Then I want to thank you! Giggle! Sloppy eggs!

We both nodded at each other and laughed.

The scenery left in the bottom of my heart is the frozen family affection that slowly outlines the picture of the exiled life. The busy and monotonous life of the third year of junior high school can always make people tired. The heart is tired, the face is also faintly tired, the alarm clock counts the time that will never return, longing for the reversal of time, and even wants to break it in half every minute in order to draw a few more traces of spring on the paper, at this moment, it is particularly tired of the so-called "natural sound" of the outside world, and the mother knocked on the doorknob, "Baby, rest for a while!"

Not available! After a while, relieved to let go of the door lock, tears came out of her eyes, the milky white milk melted into the cup, trembling and rippling a little ripple, the mother's face was slightly red, the furrow-like wrinkles were noticeably shallow in the relaxation, she kept blowing and blowing, until I arrived, she said lightly, regardless of the sweat on her cheeks, "Milk, the temperature is just right, drink it!" ”

Instead of reminiscing about possession at the moment of loss, it is better to grasp the present at the moment of possession, which is the scenery of the next stop.

The early summer of this year seemed to be hotter than usual, the ground was cracked, cracks were showing in the ground, and I walked on the road baked by the hot sun, and from time to time I sighed in my heart. Yes, in the face of my current bad situation, how can I go to a key high school next year?

I thought to myself: give up, maybe no matter how hard you try, it will be in vain. Thinking about it all the way, I unconsciously walked to the door of the house, walked into the room, put down the heavy schoolbag, and couldn't help but sigh again.

I sat in my chair and looked out at the hot and bright sunshine when a gust of wind blew and I saw a wonderful tree.

It was an old sycamore, wild, and its tattered body was extremely out of harmony with its surroundings. However, it is shocking that there are a few green leaves growing on the top of it. Last winter, I thought it wouldn't wake up again this year, but today's sight completely disproves my idea.

See, although the branches of this sycamore have long since matured, the leaves it emits are so vibrant. The palm-shaped leaves are so green that they seem to be about to flow out of juice, one by one, one by one, overlapping each other, all vying to enjoy the baptism of nature. The breeze blew and they all waved to me in a friendly way, even though the sun was so hot.

I forgot about my loss in this short period of time, and now I only have this unique scenery in my eyes. This clump of green is the dream of the old sycamore, for the sake of the dream, it constantly draws nutrients from the ground, even when the weather is dry, it still does not relax. How dazzling and gorgeous this green is!

Yes, if you can still hold on to your dreams and struggle when the conditions are the most difficult, there will definitely be that piece of green, that dazzling green.

When the height of summer comes, people enjoy the shade of the greenery, and perhaps the sycamore will be pleased with its original efforts, and it has paid for its dreams, even though its life is almost over.

My eyes lit up, I'm still young! I have youth, I have vitality, why do I want to push myself to a dead end? Why not fight for it? Am I not even as good as a sycamore?

The sun outside the window is still scorching, and this lush sycamore is the most beautiful scenery left in my heart.