Essay on the topic of calendar No less than 600 words, the topic is self proposed, and the speed is

The memory of the calendar The sigh of man.

The white calendar is nailed to the wall, quietly, like a marginal person. All the experiences that flowed through his eyes precipitated until his memory was blurred.

I still remember the old-fashioned calendar nailed to the mottled walls of my grandmother's house, half the size of a textbook, but very thick, counting the three hundred and sixty-six pages of the cover; The paper is light and thin, but it is a little heavy to handle. My grandmother always circled the calendar with a red pen, father's birthday, uncle's birthday, ......My birthday. Or one morning, take a tape measure, let me lean against the wall to measure my height, and then stroke my fluffy hair, "You're getting taller again."

Those words are always accompanied by pampering and gratification. That calendar records the bits and pieces of my grandmother's children and grandchildren, and also records my grandmother's silent love for me.

I also remember that my young self once believed that the calendar had magical powers, and every time I tore off a page, time would disappear for a day. I was desperate to grow up, and I secretly took down the calendar and kept tearing page after page from page to page. After tearing this book, I'll grow up.

Childish and grotesque thoughts and the crisp sound of paper breaking ripple in the memory, but they leave irresponsibly, reaching out to reach out to reach only to realize that the memory and reality have been blurred.

Turning around slowly, there was a calendar hanging by the window, white paper, delicate pictures, but it left a blank space and let the memories fall in the corner. In a hurry, in a hurry, numbly letting the constraints of time run back and forth, for something cold to make their hearts cold, who will gently record warmth and protection at the edge of the numbers?

The wind blows, stirring up the past that can no longer be changed, and the hazy face of tomorrow looms under the paper.

Stubborn and willful complaining can only linger at the point of origin, allowing others to tear my calendar into the past like a broken white butterfly. The sun shines through the pupils to the soul, and even though some have passed away, the page of today has not yet been turned, and the page of tomorrow is still waiting. I suddenly remembered the boy named Ziyou, the shadow of leukemia could not hide the brilliance of sixteen-year-old youth, every day with poems to record happiness and strength, full of enthusiasm to turn over the calendar of every today, looking forward to every tomorrow.

When the memory of the calendar is no longer clear, it will only leave people sighing. But if you put the details of life in your heart, even if the memory has been yellowed, you still smile like a warm spring breeze.

That calendar is life.

A ** caused by memories.

Every weekend when I come home, whenever I have time, I will habitually take out that long-cherished photo album, although it is not brand new, but he is my treasure! Because it brings back many good memories ...... me

This time was no exception, and I couldn't help but take it out again, reminiscing about it and savoring every scene in it. Flip and flip - this ** makes me relive the happiness and freedom of my childhood. I felt the golden color of childhood.

This ** was taken when I was 8 years old. Although it has been 5 years since the amazing scenery on **, it is still fresh in my mind. It was the cool breeze of the golden autumn season, the harvest day, the begonia fruit in the orchard nodded and smiled at me, the big apple was like a fat doll picking up the green leaves to look out, and the golden persimmon bent the branches ......So a few of our inseparable friends suddenly wanted to go to the countryside for a picnic, and my mother drove us to the "paradise"!

By the time we reached our destination, the sun was slowly setting in the western sky, the sunset was full of clouds, the clouds were like patches of red silk, and the breeze was blowing across our faces, and the gentle wind did not have the biting bones of the winter wind, nor the earthy smell of spring. It's so comfortable! As far as the eye can see, a large area of rice fields is like a golden ocean, rolling waves.

We were naïve at the time, but we were very excited to see such a beautiful view. Because we live in the city all day long by car exhaust pollution, lively and noisy, crowded with people; But it's a stark contrast to the city. The air is fresh and the atmosphere is so peaceful!

So we played hide and seek under the fiery maple trees; catching fish and shrimp in the river pond; Use straw to weave the ring ......Many, many, so beautiful, so carefree, we were so innocent ...... at that time

Seeing us in **, holding hands under the maple tree, smiling so naturally, without the slightest restraint, smiling so sweetly, my heart is full of joy rippling in it! Under the rays of the setting sun, there was a flush on my face!

Time is gone, but the good memories are worth remembering for a lifetime! The same goes for a golden childhood! Indeed, the carefree and innocent nature of childhood has colored his childhood with a layer of gold that can never be erased! Let's savor it forever ......