My house essay, if I were a house essay

If I were a house, I would be able to live by the sea and enjoy the view of the sea. Watch seagulls soar in the sky, watch boats fluttering, and watch the sea breeze blowing on the sea.

If I were a house, I could build it in the garden, and I could see the little bees collecting nectar in the garden. Watch the colorful flowers, watch the butterflies flutter, and watch the insects cool under the leaves.

If I were a house, I could build a zoo and see a lot of cute animals, watch pandas swallow slowly, watch tigers get fit, and watch giraffes walk gracefully. If I were a house, I would be able to shelter people from the wind and rain, so that people could get a good night's sleep. Looking at people's happy smiling faces, listening to people's cheerful liquid has long been ...... words

If I were a house like this, I would be the most satisfied in the world! Hold on to your luck.

There are osmanthus trees two kilometers near the house I live in, but they are usually hidden in the wild bushes of the chaotic wood belt, and no one has found them. But once it is the eighth month of the lunar calendar, the bright yellow of the stars that cannot be hidden in the chaotic bushes is their waiting for a year.

The warm sun and cinnamon fragrance combine to create the best smell of the season.

It suddenly occurred to me that in another house where my family and I had not lived for a long time, it must have been full of this smell.

After living in the house for a long time, I subtly developed a deep bond with the people who lived there. For me, that house is my past.

Grandpa was still alive when we lived there. It was a small two-story building, and a vegetable patch was opened downstairs, and there were miscellaneous osmanthus flowers, large-leaved yellow leaves, and other miscellaneous plants next to it. Some of the trees. There is a grandfather's hard work in the vegetable field.

Grandpa was an old man of few words. Grandma was very nagging, and whenever this time Grandpa did not reply, but sat quietly, making a good pot of tea, or going to serve his vegetables.

When I was a child, I was ignorant and made fun of my grandfather's bare head, like a bomb. I was too young to know that my grandfather was so sick that he was about to lose his hair. Grandpa just smiled kindly, shouted me up and sat on his lap, and tickled me.

Grandpa loved osmanthus very much. Whenever the osmanthus is fragrant in August, my grandfather always folds a branch of osmanthus flowers, carefully trims off the branches and leaves, and puts it at the head of the family's bed. Every night, I fall asleep with the fragrance of cinnamon.

When Grandpa left, it was the time when the osmanthus flowers bloomed. The family broke a lot of osmanthus flowers and put them beside him. I cried like a tearful man. Later, we moved and let this old house sleep peacefully with my grandfather.

The osmanthus flowers are always blooming round after round, and the things in this house are getting farther and farther away from us, so far away that even the memory is mottled and blurred. But I know that people never forget, but there is such a day with cinnamon fragrance and warm sun, to slowly reminisce.