Help me find 3 narrative essays Writer 1, Writer 1, Write Scene 1. Okay? Don t be too short

That afternoon, it was overcast, and I hurried home after my interest class. At this time, I saw a cleaner, who was struggling to drag a cart of garbage, and the garbage still emitted a burst of stench. I pinched my nose and walked a few quick steps to the side to feel more comfortable.

But the overcast sky was overwhelming, and the stench made me look at the cleaner with contempt, as if all her displeasure was her cause. The cleaner seemed to see my vision and quickly quickened his pace. But the sky was not beautiful, a gust of wind blew, and a plastic bag in the garbage truck flew up with the wind, as if to punish me, it flew towards me, I threw the plastic bag into the middle of the road in a huff, and glared at the cleaner.

The cleaner didn't say anything, just put down the car in his hand and prepared to do something. "Whoa......"The rain fell from the sky in an instant, and I hurried to the door of a bookstore, took out the raincoat in my bag, put it on, and walked along the steps in front of the store. At this time, I remembered the cleaner, and when I looked back, I saw that she struggled to pull the car to a place where there was no rain, and then rushed to the middle of the road in the pouring rain, her feet slipped, she fell to the ground, and a piece of skin was broken on her hand, and the blood flowed, she endured the pain, and struggled to get up, and ran to the plastic bag, and was about to pick up the plastic bag, but there was another gust of wind, and the plastic bag was washed away by the rain.

My eyes widened and I saw sweat mixed with rain running down her cheeks, but she didn't care, and went to pick up the hateful plastic bag, and after a few efforts, she finally succeeded. I saw her smile with satisfaction, yes, she is so conscientious every day for the cause of environmental protection, she would rather be dirty by herself in exchange for everyone's cleanliness, and me? Thinking of my childish behavior, looking at her bright smile, I cried, very uncomfortably, and I condemned myself in my heart.

The actions of this cleaner have deeply influenced me, and she infects others with her actions, just like lighting the fire of others with her own fire. Some people may say, isn't it just a plastic bag! We calculate that for every person on the planet who picks up a plastic bag, there are more than 6 billion plastic bags that will not pollute the environment, what a staggering number!

I read an article about a man who worked in Antarctica, desperately chasing a plastic bag that fell on the surface of the sea. Thanks to the influence of that cleaner, I now can't help but pick up environmentally harmful waste such as plastic bags and batteries when I see them in parks, streets, and neighborhoods. Because of the influence of the cleaner, I deeply understand that any ordinary work, as long as I do it conscientiously, will make a great contribution to the society, when I grow up, no matter what work I do, I must be like this cleaner aunt, work seriously, and make my own contribution in the ordinary position.

After netizens recommended the answer, I ran upstairs to watch TV. Looking at it, I heard that rustling sound again. I think it's the nasty cleaners sweeping the floor again.

So, I threw myself out the window to look. At this time, I saw that the cleaner was tirelessly sweeping the floor of the window. He swept several times but didn't sweep it clean, but he didn't lose heart, and continued to sweep, sweeping out the melon seed shells embedded in the cracks of the bricks, and even digging out the shells that couldn't be swept out by hand, and tearing up the candy wrappers that stuck to the ground.

My face flushed because I knew I was causing the cleaner trouble. I thought I really shouldn't have it. If everyone in the world was like me, what would the world look like?

Wouldn't that be a garbage world? Thanks to these cleaners, the world has become so clean and beautiful. I must stop littering in the future and must respect the cleaners.

Sunlight shines through the foliage;

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.

I like to put dreams 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; Sleepless sleepless.

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 the cracked birds; I pushed open the door of spring.

The dew of the morning fell, and the sound of logging drifted out of the valley.

Put down the sickle that has eaten the fragrance of rice, and regret it.

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.

My heart is in turmoil this spring.

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 narratives based on human narratives, there are often descriptions of scenes, 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 bud that sprouts the world, squeezes through the obstacle 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 is "green", and fourth, the human sense of touch is "soft".