Articles about snow looking for

- Snow (prose).

This year's snow fell earlier than usual.

Jot down this simple line, and I stepped outside. Ah, the sky is white outside, the snow is still floating in the breeze, and the shady sky is indeed very clean. I took a deep breath, it was so deep, refreshing, and surging my dantian, as if I was tasting an elegant, pure orchid fragrance.

I know that this is the effect of the anions that the snowflakes are excluding. In other words, isn't this the fragrance of snowflakes?

I remember reading when I was a child, when I read Cen Shen"Suddenly, like a night of spring breeze, thousands of trees and pear blossoms bloom"I can't solve it. I always think, does the snowflake smell like fruit wood flowers? It may be that there was no fine product at that time.

The six-petaled snowflakes are written in the book: the flowers of plants and trees are five, and the unique snowflakes are six. (See Han Yu of the Han Dynasty, "Han Poetry Transfers".)

In order to look closely, I plucked a few flowers that were open on the placket and open on the forehead, and caught them that came from the sky with small umbrellas. so that you don't have a chance to see them as they are. I simply picked up a large ball of snow and looked at it carefully.

However, in the end, there are too many reasons to reveal their true colors.

Snowflakes are really weird, they don't like lonely self-appreciation, and they don't like other people's comments, they just give people a kind of group of broad, magnificent beauty. Giving people a sense of unity is a sign of strength. Mei is different, it is also Ling Hankai, and Mei only gives people a small range of appreciation.

Mei Ying is sparse","From time to time, I see two or three flowers", Noldo, it's just a slope, a ridge, how can it be compared to that: thousands of miles of snow drifting"?However, Mei actually opened at the same time as Xue Linghan, and most of her arrogant people ignored it"The plum and snow are three points white, but the snow loses the plum and a piece of fragrance"It's still very pertinent.

Whether it is plum or snow, we give life to all things in nature, which is the reason for our persistent pursuit of life, if not, even if"Thousands of miles of snow drifting"Under the magnificence, there is no"Fishing alone in the cold river"Negative waiting? It's still Su Shi who said well,"It's cold in the heights"Loving life and loving the world is what we take.

Xu is the slight warmth of the hand, the snow ball slowly melts in the hand, and water flows down from between the fingers, disappears into the snow, and moistens into the soil, is this the will of the snowflake? I think that the snowflakes that fly from the sea, beautify the northern land with a pure soul, and in the end they only quietly dissolve, moisturize, and exist for the sake of a pure love.

How ordinary and great is the snowflake for love, it falls and falls every year, and it is undefeated every year, just like the old newspaper pasted by the villagers on the occasion of the New Year, how meaningful it is.

There is a text about snow.

1. Looking from afar, the snow is like small silver beads, like small raindrops, like diamonds, like catkins, like poplars, and has hung a white and overwhelming snow curtain for us.

2. Look, the snow is the broken jade scattered by the fairy, the snow is the pure tidbits on the osmanthus tree, and the snow is the rouge that Chang'e overturned; The snow is a "butterfly" peculiar to winter.

3. The snow fell on the branches, fluffy, shiny, like a mother's silver filaments fluttering in the wind. Flocks of snow fluttering like butterflies fall on rooftops and tree branches, weaving a pure white "dress" for the pines and cypresses on the roadside.

4. The color of winter is pure white, such as silver frost and snow, symbolizing a beautiful soul.

5. One by one, one by one, as white as silver, as clean as jade, like the jade leaves and silver flowers scattered by the fairies in the sky, like the little angels sent by the heavenly palace, and like white butterflies dancing one by one, how fascinating all this is!

Snow, snow like catkins, snow like reeds, snow like dandelions dancing in the air.

Northern. Winter. Quarter Moon. Rainbow. The first snow began to drift.

A man sits behind a curtain of snow and mist, listening to the sound of snow falling. The falling dead leaves were soon covered by the snow, like a speck of dust, which disappeared in an instant, sinking with my memory.

It seems that every winter is spent like this, curled up in his warm cabin, lighting a curling lamp, listening to **, sipping steaming tea, reading a favorite book, watching the wind, frost, rain and snow sliding outside the window, year after year, over and over again. I would like to dwell in my castle like this, quietly watching the years go by, like water. I don't know if the traces of time have been hung on my face and engraved in my heart.

I know that one day, my eyes will no longer be as clear as snowflakes. Many years later, a heavy snowfall, will you remember the woman behind the snow curtain back then, the past, like snow's heart.

Looking up at the pedestrians on the road, they were all in a hurry. The winter solstice has not yet arrived, the cold at the moment is not biting, presumably a person walking alone on the road, looking at the remnants of the leaves that will not fall, will feel a little desolate, will suddenly feel the warmth of home, will involuntarily speed up the pace. I remembered the ancient poem again, "Chaimen hears the dog barking, and returns to the people on a snowy night."

When I think of this, I can't help but want to laugh, not at others, but at myself. Sitting in the room all day long, thinking wildly, the real and the unreal have blurred and cannot be distinguished, and many scenes have never been experienced and will never be realized, but they are indescribably familiar and terrifying. It was as if wings had been born in my heart, traveling through time and space, fluttering, and flying for me one trip after another.

It turns out that imagination can be so real, and it can be so absurd.

I suddenly remembered an old song from many years ago: Collect your emotions, leave your memories blank, forget the past you once had, and never say love ...... againI like these pure old songs, and I can relieve all my sorrows with just a few words. How many words of the ethereal promise of the year can be fulfilled?

I don't know, and I can't prove it. Just knowing that it can no longer bring the slightest excitement or dizziness, it is like fireworks blooming in the night sky, the beauty belongs to her for only a moment, the wind blows away, the prosperity ends, and everything is empty.

The moonlight and snow shadow swept in through the window, sprinkled in front of the window table, sprinkled on my forehead, and moistened my soul. Fingertips fluttered again, pouring out her loneliness. It's just a game and a dream, but the rules of such a game are impermanent, and such a dream can see the other side, but it can't be crossed.

This scene is very exciting, it is staged when it should be staged, and it ends when it is time to end. This game is very helpless, from clear to blurry, from spring flowers to autumn dew. Like a wisp of wind, a scene of snow, rising and falling at will, I don't know what the direction is, I don't know where the end is.

Though he who goes, he who comes; In the middle of coming, how kind of hurry is it? "Mr. Zhu Ziqing's "Hurry" made me sigh, it turned out that everything was destined to be in a hurry, and I couldn't chase it all my life.

The snow outside the window has stopped. I froze in place, like a weary butterfly, unable to fly.