Who has a good article to write about the scene of 5

Look at the two Beijing Fu, and the three are also Fu.

A small scene in the forest" The sun shines through the branches and leaves;

dyed with a bright green color;

The wind, whistling;

Glide gently over the leaf surface.

the air that flows into the woods;

It also becomes sweet and soft.

Therefore, on every tree;

They all hang the song of the birds. Zen escort sale.

Spring Dream "I like it.

Put the dreams you have in the spring; It's called Spring Dream.

I try hard to dream of you; But always in vain.

I like to wake up and turn my pillow over; I heard that it does; Will be a dream come true.

In this spring, I want to be in the middle of it; What I'm turning over and over is; The lonely pillow is funny.

Push open the door of spring

I heard a bird calling.

in the city; There are several primroses;

They did not dare to enter the city;

Only cheers and jumps outside the effect;

They are as simple as peasants in the countryside;

Let me sprout a kind of intimacy;

They are my friends;

It was like a relative I met by chance;

They are looking for unknown bugs;

Make friendly sounds to your peers;

Outside of the effect, I fell in love with the sound of birds;

In the contention of birds; I pushed open the door of spring.

Autumn shook the dew of the morning, and the sound of logging drifted out of the valley.

Put down the sickle that has eaten the aroma of rice, and use the back basket to hold the fat melons and fruits between the bamboo fences.

In autumn, it is perched in a farmhouse.

Cast a round net into the cold mist on the river, and put away the shadow of the blue bream-like black cypress leaves.

The reeds were laden with hoarfrost, and the small oars that returned to the moored were gently rocked.

Autumn game on a fishing boat.

The grass and fields are even more open to the sound of crickets.

The water of the stream has dried up, and the stones have become clearer.

Where is the sound of the flute on the back of the ox, the flute hole full of the incense and heat of the summer night?

Autumn dreams in the eyes of the shepherdess.

This Spring" This spring, my heart is in turmoil.

Some tombstones come to mind for a moment.

I think about my childhood for a moment.

My heart is in turmoil this spring.

Spring's poems have been written in spring.

My dedication poems are spring blades of grass and flower crowns.

Definition: Writing scenery is to describe scenery, which is basically a kind of narrative. In the article of writing scenery, love is the soul of the scene, the scenery is the support of love, and the natural blend of love and scenery can write a good article.

Technique: Generally, the scene is written by changing the scene, so that the scene can be moved! In the narrative of the writer as the master of chaos, there are often descriptions of scenery, which are generally used to explain the background, time, and place of the story, and play the role of rendering the atmosphere, setting off the characters, and showing the center.

There is also a type of article in the narrative, which is dedicated to describing the seasonal solar terms, mountains, rivers, lakes and seas, the sun, moon and starry sky, the cloudy rain and snow, flowers and trees, as well as the living environment, customs and so on.

Example Appreciation: Zhu Ziqing's prose "Spring" depicts various scenes in spring: mountains, water, grass, flowers, rain, and so on.

For spring grass, the author grasped the following characteristics: first, the budding young shoots, squeezing through the obstacles of the soil to expose the word "drill" on the ground, second, the delicate spirit and "tenderness" of the newborn grass, third, the color of the spring grass "green", and fourth, the human sense of touch "soft".

During the scorching summer vacation, my family happily traveled to Nha Trang, a relatively affluent city in Vietnam, where we saw the sea I had been waiting for for a long time. After several hours of flying and busing, I finally arrived at my destination after a bumpy and tiring journey, it was already more than three o'clock in the morning, and I hurriedly checked in, and I fell asleep with a longing for the sea.

The hotels we stayed in were all sea view rooms, and as soon as you opened the window, you could see the beautiful sandy beach and the amazing sea. The rays of sunlight came in through the cracks in the curtains, waking me up from my sleep, I stretched my waist, hurriedly got up and opened the curtains, and looked at the sea in the distance, the blue sky, set off the white clouds, and made the sea even more beautiful. When I saw such a view, I was thrilled.

I hurriedly took my mother to the beach, and I strolled barefoot on the beach. A golden sand beach and a deep blue sky come into view. The sea is as calm as a lake, but it is wider than the lake; It's as blue as a river, but it's more secluded than a river.

I quietly listened to the sound of the waves crashing on the beach, like a pianist playing a wonderful **, such a harmonious scenery, you will definitely be deeply intoxicated by everything here.

A few steps forward, a row of white flowers ran towards me, hugged my little feet, and then retreated, and then another row like a mother's hand caressing my young little feet. Sometimes that wave has the scene of charging into battle during the battle, and the momentum is magnificent.

I stepped on the soft sand, like stepping on a large sheet of cotton, and piled it up with both hands on the sand, and soon a little castle was erected. Playing with the golden sand, looking at the blue sky, listening to the wonderful crashing of the waves, and enjoying the happy time.

This charming sea, let ** even forget to return, relaxed, it is so varied, I hope to dive into the bottom of the sea to see the spine jujube to see the colorful underwater world friends of the world, appreciate I have never seen a thousand forms of coral and different shapes of cherry blossom dismantling sea fish.

Holding an oil-paper umbrella, alone.

It's long, long.

And lonely rain alley, I hope to meet.

A clove like that.

A girl with a grudge.

She has the color of cloves, the fragrance of lilacs, the sorrow of lilacs, and she complains in the rain, complains and hesitates;

She wandered in this lonely rainy alley, holding an oil-paper umbrella.

Like me, like me.

Silently.

Indifferent, desolate, and melancholy.

She silently approached, approached, and threw again.

Tai Xi general vision.

She floated like a dream, like a dream, as miserable and confused as a dream.

It's like floating in a dream.

A lilac field, and this girl floated beside me;

She silently walked away, far away, to the decaying fence, and walked through the rainy alley.

In the lamentation of the rain, her color was dissipated, her fragrance was scattered, and even hers was dissipated.

The eyes of the breath.

Lilac-like melancholy.

Holding an oil-paper umbrella, alone.

It's long, long.

Another lonely rainy alley, I hope to float through.

A clove like that.

A girl with a grudge.