Essay The Most Beautiful Time The Best Time Essay

What time do you come out in the morning?

In our ordinary daily life, we are often exposed to composition, according to the characteristics of writing propositions, compositions can be divided into propositional compositions and non-propositional compositions. What makes a good essay? The following is the best time essay I have collected for you, welcome to read, I hope you can enjoy the mountains.

The rain dusts the frost leaves, and the dust falls to the past; The clouds cover the geese, covering the time of five years. I gently pushed open the window, and the maple leaves rustled with memories.

I've been playing the flute for five years.

Since I was a child, I don't like cold Western musical instruments, I don't like the metal-like **, when my mother asked me what instrument to learn, a term that had been buried in my heart for a long time suddenly popped up - "bamboo flute". In my heart, the flute is very handsome, and there are some fairy bones, when listening to the flute, nature will resonate, as if all things are singing to you.

When I was younger, I picked up the bamboo flute a year later, because the lost front teeth had not yet erupted. In the year of waiting, I imagined countless times that the sound of the flute was elegant, graceful and melodious, imagining the exquisite flute body, and the whole person's soul seemed to be grabbed by the bamboo flute, unable to extricate himself.

But learning the bamboo flute is not that easy. The three-minute heat of a child lasted me for only one semester and then ran out. It's perfect as it can be.

The sound of the flute was replaced by an unaesthetic noise, and the chic appearance was replaced by crooked arms and scrambling, and the perfect "bamboo flute dream" in my mind was shattered at once.

Every time I wanted to give up, but somehow, there was always a stubbornness in my heart that motivated me to persevere.

One-year, two-year, three-year ......The thoughts of giving up were erased by time, but that firmness took root in my heart.

At the sixth grade class celebration, the teacher asked each of the students who knew how to play an instrument to put on a program, which made me happy and uneasy.

I hesitated to hold the flute, carefully standing in front of the podium, constantly recalling the score in my heart, looking at the classmates in the audience, panicked. The following memories are vague, I vaguely remember that I was playing on stage, I don't remember the score at all, I just jumped wildly with my fingers, and the sweat on my forehead kept pouring out and ......And in the last paragraph, I suddenly sobered up, the rhythm of the fingers came back, as if I had really become the speeding herdsman, I slowly closed my eyes, did not think about any musical score, let the chaotic mood wander in my heart, my fingers were no longer controlled, and I subconsciously flew with the tune.

At the end of the song, when I opened my eyes, I saw the bundles of admiring eyes from the audience, but my heart inexplicably swelled with a sourness, and five years of learning the flute appeared in front of me.

Late at night, I was still mechanically practicing fingering under the lamp; After school, I still practiced in front of the window; The cold and summer have changed, and the boy holding the flute at the window has gradually grown up. It turned out that the time full of sadness and soaked in sweat bloomed in the dust, so shining and so beautiful.

A cool breeze brushed my cheeks, my mind returned, and a light smile crept up the corners of my mouth, to myself, and to that best time.