I need a good clip, about 300 words, everyone help in the next careless grateful

Autumn message (prose).

When I was a child, I sat next to my mother's lap and watched her make cotton clothes with stitches and threads, and I knew that it was autumn season, when I was very afraid of autumn, afraid of the cold weather, afraid of the slow winter, and the cold of winter on my body was difficult to be warmed by the sun.

Adolescence, I fell in love with autumn, obsessed with autumn, may be the reason why this season coincides with my more or less melancholy character, watching the golden leaves in front of me wither, dancing with the wind, there is a desolate and unspeakable sorrow will suddenly come to my heart, sighing about the changes of nature, groaning the depression in my heart and the turmoil of youth, and my face is full of sorrow.

In recent years, I have feared autumn, and even said that I hate autumn, but I always remember autumn, which is also the season when the golden leaves are withering, and my elderly father has lost his language, memory and eating ability under the invasion of illness, and is terminally ill.

With a little memory, he was trying to identify his children and grandchildren, and there were cloudy tears in the corners of his eyes. Isn't my father in front of me like a crumbling autumn leaf hanging from the branches? At that time, I looked forward to spring, hoping for the arrival of the spring breeze, blowing the autumn leaves that were about to wither, praying to the sky, hoping that his life and the autumn leaves would be favored by spring, turn from yellow to green, and restore the power of life.

However, the forces of nature were irresistible, and my father withered with the last leaves of the branches, with the autumn wind. I attributed the loss of my father to the ruthlessness of autumn, and the bitter cry was full of helplessness, if the leaves were not yellow, and the autumn wind was not tight, maybe my father would survive, accompanied by the laughter of his children, and get rid of the suffering of life.

I weep for the autumn leaves, I struggle for the autumn leaves, and sigh for the shortness and fragility of life. I envy the plants of the tropical rainforest more deeply, and I am glad that they can have an evergreen climate in all seasons, and I am happy that they are not invaded by the cold, however, the wild geese from the south told me that I was wrong, the evergreen is only its appearance, with the growth of the young leaves at the top, although the old leaves at the end of the tail are not destroyed by the autumn wind, they will eventually wither and yellow, because it also has to obey nature and obey the arrangement of the laws of life. There is no eternal life of youth in the world, and there is no immortal soul, no one can be an exception, everything has nothing to do with the innocent autumn wind!

Where is the Pure Land? Xanadu is just the ancients' yearning for a better life!

Some people say that autumn is the season of the poet, the remnants of the lotus and the willows, the fallen leaves and the remnants of the flowers, all full of sorrow, full of sentimentality, rolling up his sorrows, inspiring him, erupting the most tragic and poignant language, crying for the remnants of the flowers, crying for the fallen leaves, with the frost red of the maple leaves, the fall of the reed flowers, write the most beautiful poems together.

The melodious chirping of insects, filled with the autumn breeze, wanders between valleys, fields, and hidden paths.

A dark moon hangs in the air, continuing the rhyme of autumn.

It can be around the current season - autumn. Is it possible to use famous articles?

Starry Ice Heart.

I love moonlit nights, but I also love starry skies. Once upon a time in my hometown.

In July and August, when I was enjoying the cool in the courtyard, I loved to watch the stars in the sky. Looking at the stars, I forget everything, as if I were back in my mother's arms.

Three years ago, there was a back door where I lived in Nanjing, and every night when I opened the back door, I saw a silent night. Below is a vegetable garden, above which is a constellation of blue skies. Starlight may be tiny in our eyes, but it makes us feel that light is everywhere.

I was reading some books on astronomy, and I knew some stars as if they were my friends, and they were talking to me a lot.

Now at sea, facing the stars every night, I know them very well. I lay on the deck and looked up at the sky, and there were countless half-bright stars hanging in the deep blue sky. The ship is moving, the stars are moving, they are so low, they are really shaky!

Gradually, my eyes blurred, and I seemed to see countless fireflies flying around me. The night at sea is soft, silent, and dreamy. I looked at the many stars I knew, and I seemed to see them glaring at me, and I seemed to hear them whispering.

At this point, I forgot everything. In the arms of the stars I smile, I fall asleep. I felt like a little kid and now slept in my mother's arms.