The sigh of the tree essay 700 words

So, it broke free from the shackles of the branches, drew the most beautiful arc of late autumn in the cold wind, and quietly fell to the land of early winter.

It was a touch of red, a touch of withered red.

The cold wind carried the message of winter, blew off the branches and leaves, blew away the flocks of geese on the lake, blew the pedestrians on the road to put on their coats, and quickened their pace, blowing the gem mountain, which is not lively on weekdays, more and more deserted.

Climbing up the stairs from the back mountain, there is no noise of the city, no flying dust, and only the faint fragrance of the soil after the drizzle. The smell of late autumn and early winter permeates the mountain air. Stepping on the rustling of dead leaves, I slowly came to the top of the mountain. Composition.

A red maple tree. It came to me so naturally and abruptly. It's not ostentatious, in fact it's withering, it's as gray as the city sky, but it's still dazzling compared to the surrounding scenery, and one can't help but look at it.

It's making its final goodbyes to Autumn. A cold wind blew, and three or five leaves slowly fell. However, Winter seems to be a little dissatisfied with its reluctance to give up with Autumn, so he sends a cold wind to urge it.

A leaf trembled at the branches, as if unwilling to leave, and used its thin branches to make a last, unquestioning struggle against winter. Finally, Winter blew it off with a merciless wind, and it fell quietly in a beautiful arc. Composition.

I stepped forward and picked up the maple leaf that had just fallen. Its red is a desperate dead gray, like an old man who is desperate, looking at his hometown that is gradually disappearing, and slowly closes his eyes. Fingers slowly ran along its veins, which seemed to carve the story of its life, and let me read it carefully.

I read the joy of its blooming in early spring, the expectation of its growth in midsummer, the poignancy of its blooming in late autumn, and the loneliness of its withering in early winter. It's a lifetime.

I have read countless articles praising fallen leaves, saying that they "turn into spring mud to protect flowers", that they are great, that they are selfless, and even that they do not forget their roots, and that the leaves fall back to their roots, to nourish the roots that once nurtured them.

However, reading this maple, I have another feeling.

How reluctant it was to say goodbye at the end! It didn't want to leave, so it struggled, fought against the winter wind, but it lost, it failed to overcome nature and time, and fell.

I have laughed at the weakness of deciduous trees, at their lack of foliage in winter like evergreens. However, at that time, someone attacked me and said that the laws of nature at that time could not be changed by the leaves themselves.

In a distant place, there lived a large family, all of which were trees, and the place where they lived became a forest.

One day, the trees saw some kind-faced people approaching, and knew that they must be good people, so they did not refuse them to enter the gate. As soon as they entered, they politely saluted the patriarch of the old god tree and brought water from a natural spring. Then, they consulted the patriarch of the old god tree:

How can I plant a tree well? The old patriarch said, "As long as you have patience and love, you can plant a good tree."

After asking for advice, they said goodbye and went back. The old patriarch had received many guests, and had never seen a guest as polite as they were.

After a few days, they and some planters arrived, and the trees warmly welcomed them and gave them a feast. They led the planters to plant seedlings in the blank spaces. Within a few years, the seedlings gradually grew into trees, and these big trees finally had company.

They come every year to plant trees, and they are praised by the trees.

But the good times didn't last long! After a few years of such peaceful days, some peasants who did not understand the benefits of trees, because they were poor, migrated here, and when they saw a large forest in front of them, they settled down. At first, they had no ill intentions, they just gathered firewood and made a fire, and when they were tired, they went to the forest to rest.

When the trees saw it, they always shaded them and cooled them, but they themselves were covered in smoke by the sun. And that's it, day after day.

One day, a farmer suddenly said, "That forest in the mountains can be cut down and sold for money." Others agreed, ready to go up the hill and cut down trees. Their starting point is to live a good life for themselves, but they have done something wrong.

When the trees learned the news in advance, they were all listless. The old god tree said sadly, "It is in vain that we have been so good to them."

The little poplar tree said in despair, "There is no help." Later, the forest was cut down by the farmers.

That year, it rained heavily for a long time, and because of the loss of forest protection, a flood occurred, drowning hundreds of farmers down the mountain. Maybe that's retribution.

People want to protect plants. Protecting plants is protecting yourself.