An essay on homesickness!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 555555555 hurry!

When I go out, I inevitably have a faint feeling of homesickness, and I can't tell what this love is. When it comes to girls who love their families, I don't object to that; As for the boy, it seems that there should be no homesickness, which may be right, just like me, he is away all year round, only home once a year, and only on traditional Chinese festivals'''I only went home once during the Spring Festival. After graduating from university, I traveled around for work, and I had long been accustomed to that kind of wandering days, perhaps the feeling of being home all over the world and wandering the rivers and lakes.

Every year when I go back to my hometown, I like to go out into the wilderness and see it. Walking on the familiar field path, seeing the green safflower grass and yellow rape flowers, and smelling the fragrance of the long-lost soil, I feel that I am back to my childhood. The land is still the same land, the people are still the same people, they may not be together for many years, and their lifestyles are different, and they feel as if they are not on the same level.

Despite this, every time I return to my hometown, I always have a familiar feeling, and I can always see some different changes, perhaps it is the embellishment brought by the new socialist countryside that I have been shouting for a long time. Actually, what I watched was still too slow, which may be the reason why I didn't want to stay at home for too long, and I usually didn't go home for more than a week.

The world changes, the times are constantly changing, and people are constantly changing, but the only thing that remains unchanged is a homesickness when going out, like He Zhizhang's young and old man who left home, the hometown voice has not changed, the sideburns have declined, and the children do not know each other, and they ask where the guests come from. This song may not be suitable for me, but at least it is a kind of mood for me. Whatever it is, let's go out and have a look.

On the first day of the Lunar New Year, I was bored at home, I couldn't help but walk and walk to the field, look at the rape flowers competing to bloom, look at the golden patch, I knew that spring was coming, this was a spring of hope, this was a field of hope. Looking at the wicker that has just been spun, it is full of yearning for spring, as if to tell people that spring is not far away. Not far from the village, is a high mountain, called Lei Mountain, nearly 1000 meters, over this mountain, you will go to another township, when I was a child, the people in the village came to the foot of the mountain to collect firewood, but now many people burn gas.

I walked for more than half an hour, and when I reached the foot of the mountain, I was greeted by a high mountain. I went in again, and it was full of dense trees, and the road was not easy to walk, so I couldn't walk. I stopped, breathed in the fresh air, and felt very comfortable.

It seems that the negative oxygen ions in the air are not less than those in the North Sea, no wonder the ancients said: there is a birthday star in the deep mountains. This sentence is not bad at all, the deep mountains are far away from the noise of the city, away from people's activities, it is a good place to rest and recuperate, and it is tantamount to a blessing for modern people for the increasingly polluted city.

The mountains are long, the water is long, and the little love can not be scattered along the way, and the lovesickness is not separated, only to send a lovesick heart, to the bright moon of Haohao, just as the bright moon sends lovesickness for thousands of miles, but I wish people a long time, thousands of miles together.

I still think I write well ==!

Don Kong Shaoan.

Falling Leaves" Falling leaves in early autumn are scattered like a guest heart. Flipping over the flight did not want to go down, still reminiscing about the old forest.

Don Song asked.

Title: "The Wild Moon Flying Goose in the South", it is rumored that this time. I have not done anything yet, when will I return?

The tide of Jiang Jing began to fall, and the forest was dim. In the Ming Dynasty, looking at the countryside, you should see Lingtou Mei.

Tang Wang Wei, "Memories of Shandong Brothers on September 9th".

Alone in a foreign land as a stranger, every festival is full of relatives. The remote knowledge brothers ascended to the heights, and there was one less person in the dogwood.

Don Lee Bai.

Silent Night Thoughts" The bright moonlight in front of the bed is suspected to be frost on the ground. Raise your head to look at the bright moon and bow your head to think of your hometown.

Don Lee Bai.

Guan Shanyue" The bright moon rises out of the Tianshan Mountains, and the vast sea of clouds. The long wind is tens of thousands of miles, blowing the Yumen Pass.

Hanxia Baideng Road, Hu peep into Qinghai Bay. came to the battlefield, but no one returned.

The soldiers looked at the border towns, and thought about how bitter they were. High-rise buildings are at this night, sighing is not idle.

Don Gao Shi "Except for the Night".

The cold lights of the hotel never sleep, and the guest's heart turned sad. Hometown thinks of thousands of miles tonight, frost sideburns tomorrow another year.

Don Du Fu.

Fireflies are fortunate to come out of the rotten grass and dare to fly close to the sun. Before the book, you can order guest clothes.

The mantle is small with the wind, and the rain looks at the forest. The frost is heavy in October, and there are no rules.

Don Du Fu.

Remembering the Brother on a Moonlit Night" The drums cut off the pedestrians, and the sound of geese in the autumn. The dew is white from tonight, and the moon is the hometown of Ming.

There are brothers who are scattered, and there is no home to ask about life and death. The length of the letter is not reached, and there is no truce.

Don Dai Shulun, "Landscape of Zhizhi River".

Panasonic spear pavilion is cool in May, and Tingsha cloud trees are blue in late. Pedestrians think about the infinite autumn wind, and the green mountains across the water are like hometowns.

Don Li Yi, "Boating".

The willow flower flew into the boat, and the water was led to the water flow. Hearing that the scenery is full of poplars, the sky is sunny and looks at the township building.

Tang Li Yi, "Listening to the Flute in the Surrendered City at Night".

The sand is like snow in front of Huile Peak, and the moon outside the city is like frost. I don't know where to blow the reed pipe, and I recruit people to look at the hometown overnight.

Tang Zhang, "Autumn Thoughts".

Seeing the autumn breeze in Luoyang City, I want to write a book. The fear was said in a hurry, and the pedestrians opened it again.

Song Wang Anshi, "Docking the Boat in Guazhou".

There is a water room in Guazhou in Beijing, and there are only a few mountains in between. The spring breeze and the south bank of the Green River, when will the bright moon shine on me.

I discovered the secret of the ants.

One day, after eating a pear, I was about to throw away the leftover pear, and my mother said, "Give the kernel to the ants." "I listened:

It's winter, how can there be ants? My mother pulled me into the house, pointed to a small hole in the corner and said, "Look, it's here."

So, I put the pear pit next to the hole. After a while, the pear core was discovered by one of the ant's detectives. It crawls up to the pear pit, touches it with its antennae, and then it runs back, and on the way it meets an ant, and they touch the antennae and keep going until they get into the hole.

After a while, a large pile of ants crawled out of the ant hole, and I thought it must be an army of ants. They climbed up to the pit like a peak, worked on it for a while, and then crawled back into the hole. I take a closer look, and ah!

They're biting down on a piece of flesh with their teeth and moving it into the hole! After a while, a pear pit was gnawed out of a hole by the ants.

Why are there ants in winter? Why do you want to be on each other's tentacles? Do ants get lost in search of food?

A series of questions came to my mind. To figure out these questions, I found out the book "100,000 Whys".After careful searching, I finally got the answer to all the questions, there are ants in winter because they don't stock up enough food for the winter, and the ants will also go out and leave a smell in relatively warm conditions, and when it returns, as long as it follows the smell, it will definitely be able to return to the ant hole, so the ants will not get lost.

The mighty river carries the sailing ship on the expedition, but the boat understands that the direction of the lighthouse is the harbor to which he is most attached when he comes; The blue sky carries the wings of the dove, but the direction of home is so clear. Just like the attachment flowing in the river, the thoughts passing in the sky, when a familiar term emerges in my mind, my heart is always a little throbbing.

I was once so amazed by the magnificence of the leaves, and I was grateful for the ultimate beauty. The branches were only a few meters away from the earth, but the leaves resolutely broke free, and let the wind fly, and it whirled; Let the car crush it, it still sings, and it is moving and beautiful in the direction of the root. I asked the fallen leaves, and the fallen leaves were silent, which should be the feelings emanating from within, and slowly experienced.

Until that year, the sun melted, brushed through the small excitement in the heart, the spring breeze was warm, but the faint bitterness in the heart, the cypress trees in front of the door swayed, swaying the heart of reluctance, that day we moved to the city with our family. Far away from the crystal dew in the early morning, far away from the smoked bean tea steaming in the local flavor of the rhyme and elegance, far away from the spring rain with an umbrella strolling on the ridge. Getting into the car waiting in front of the door, looking at the shadow of the ancient house reflected in the sun, the memory was sealed in this peaceful courtyard, in the direction that gradually faded away, I cried, couldn't stop falling, flowing from the bottom of my heart.

Far from home, everything is so new in a strange city, but my heart seems to be more and more homesick. At this time, I seem to be able to truly appreciate the resoluteness of the fallen leaves to break free from the branches, which is the power of home and the power of roots. An essay by Lin Yutang once gave me deep comfort.

When he was a child, he lived in Gulangyu, very close to the sea, he often listened to the murmur of the sea with his father on the seaside, he often asked his father about the picture of the other side of the sea, he longed for it, and finally he flew over the sea, but this side of the sea still lingered deeply in his heart. "When I crossed the sea by plane, I thought it was small, but when I looked at my home from the other side of the sea, it was so far away," he said.

A short sentence is so meaningful, because nostalgia is the most beautiful language in the world.

Every living creature has its roots, has a thread that pulls it, and flows with the most beautiful emotions of people. Just at the junction of Peru and Bolivia there is a Lake Titicaca, on which lives a group of Ulu people, how many spring and autumn days have passed, he still lives on floating islands, when the Inca civilization faded, when the greenhouse effect hit, he still insisted on sticking, they said: "That's the water where the roots grow, the roots can't be pulled out, they can't move."

How simple but so touching the words, with such a desire to find, with an uncontrollable attachment, and then back to that familiar land, with a cup of green smoked bean tea in hand, pacing the countryside and asking the path, feeling the fragrance of the earth in the thick of the humidity, like Tye's mass, I felt melted at that moment. Picking up the wildflowers on the side of the road, I was amazed at the verdant roots that produced brilliant colors, and I found the answer I had been looking for.

When I was young, I was about to set sail, a book, a cup of tea, steaming with nostalgia, and there was always a lighthouse in my heart shining in the direction when I came.