How to write the essay of The Past is Like a Song ?

The Past is Like a Song Junior High School Class 2 Cao Chunhui Tutor: Hu Chunyan Time passes minute by minute, but there is not much in memory. There was a time in my memory that I will never forget, because it was firmly engraved in my heart.

As a child, I was very playful and always looked forward to going out. Finally, I had a chance to go out. It was my dad on vacation and ready to take me to his hometown.

This news excites me for a long time. It's not far from Suzhou, almost an hour or more. Grandma was already waiting at the door early, waiting for us to go for lunch.

Basically we only go back once a year, so every time grandma comes back and cooks us a lot of good food. Grandma doesn't live in the city, she lives in a rural area. The road was uneven and it was not easy to walk, but I had a great time.

Came to grandma's house, although it was dilapidated and old, but it was very clean. When I walked in, I saw a girl writing, and she was my cousin. We hit it off and quickly started talking, and we didn't hold back.

She also worked as a tour guide and showed me around. She smiled and pointed to the field, and said, "This is grandma's field, and there is a lot of rice planted in it, and when the rice is ripe, it is the rice that you eat."

And there, a lot of vegetables are grown, like celery and greens. "Suddenly, I felt like I had taken a class and understood a lot. As the sun sets, the wind gently blows the rice paddies, making a "whoosh" sound, playing a beautiful movement.

These are things that are hard to see in the city, and I feel them in this land. But it didn't take long for this comfortable day to end. People always think that the countryside is bad, but I think life in the countryside is hundreds of times better than in the city.

I finally understood why the great poets of ancient times wanted to retreat to the mountains and forests. Because they yearn for that day away from the hustle and bustle of the city, and they are intoxicated by the idyllic beauty! The singing is beautiful and nostalgic.

However, those days also left a deep impression on me like a song. Nothing could be better, and I hope that one day, I will be able to live in the countryside for a long time, and all my troubles will be away from me, and I will be a happy and carefree person. I can't help but want to say:

The old days are like a song! ”

Are you going to write this essay too? Are you a incense picker?

The past is like a song.

When I think of writing a narrative, two fond memories linger gently in my heart. Students, do you want to know what this good memory is? Let me tell you!

Fun kite festival.

Hurry up! Hurry up! It's going to fall!

Hurry up! A classmate ran around with a kite flying in the sky while somersaulting. "Hahahaha!

Fly on! "Hahahaha! My kite has taken to the skies!

Another classmate was ecstatic, screaming and jumping at the same time. I looked up at the sky, the beautiful kites. Suddenly, I noticed a "swallow" - a kite swinging leisurely in the sky, and I seemed to hear it, the kite was saying:

Look at! I'm flying highest! So, the higher I flew, the higher I flew, the higher I flew, and I could only faintly see the outline of the kite.

Then I saw a "dragonfly" walking through the clouds. The kite festival ended with cheerful laughter.

Intense tug-of-war.

The chants began again. The athletes pulled the thick rope back, and beads of sweat appeared on their foreheads, and beads of sweat rolled down the faces of the athletes, and the athletes seemed to be more energetic. Hey!

Our class won! This game is really exciting!

These two fond memories will always linger in my heart.

The past is like a song.

Reminiscing about the past can often be melancholy, but it's also beautiful at the same time. The past is just like a song, a song that endures, has a long history, and becomes more beautiful the older you get. The song contains the story of time.

An old song carrying old memories often naturally brings people's thoughts to that era of pure beauty, the era of villain books, baba movies, rubber ropes, and Christmas cards. That time that once made us excited, moved, and nostalgic.

When I was a child, the first time I heard Mr. Guo sing "My Motherland", I was attracted by the strings of rich imagery in the song. "A big river has wide waves, and the wind blows the rice and flowers on both banks." The breeze blows slowly, will the rice flowers on both sides of the strait really float and burst into fragrance?

Once, when I was passing by the green rice fields at school, I actually went to make contact with the rice flowers. In order to smell the fragrance of rice flowers. Inaba pierced my nostrils.

Blood stained the fragrant rice flowers. Later, my peers laughed at me for being stupid. And I think that's the poetry of life.

In those years of singing, sometimes when I came across a song I liked, I would quickly run to the audio store to buy it. Then after school, I hid in the house alone, lying on the bedside and savoring it. It's as if you've prepared a sumptuous dinner for yourself.

The spiritual pleasure and spiritual nourishment I have received in this is infinite. I was once moved by Zheng Zhihua's strength; Jiang Yuheng's melancholy; Cui Jian's passion; Qi Yu's elegant.

At that time, I didn't know how to appreciate a song from an artistic point of view. As long as you feel that the melody is undulating and melodious, it is fine. And humming these tunes from time to time, the first thing I do when I get home is to turn on the tape recorder and chew on the charm of it.

The tape recorder tiredly pulled the old song I don't know how many times I listened to it. until the tape is no longer usable. At that time, the soul gained an incomparable sense of happiness and satisfaction.

I also like to listen to songs now, and listening to the same song in different generations has a different feeling. Those childhood songs will become a vehicle for me to reminisce about the long years in the past today. That string of flowing notes is the train to the good times of childhood.

The undulating melody must have been soaked in the wine, otherwise why would the song be so mellow and so strong that it can't be dissolved?

It is said that the past is like a dream, like smoke. Sometimes it's very close to you, and sometimes it's a little bit of a blur in front of your eyes. And I think the past is more like a flowing song. As long as you listen attentively, you will definitely be able to feel that there are childhood laughter and stories in it.

The past is like a song.

Before I knew it, the days of the second year of junior high school were about to pass. The hectic study life has made me forget the pace of time. On the blackboard in the office, I found the mark of "him" and smiled in the second year of junior high school, and welcomed the third year of junior high school.

I suddenly found that time passed quickly, and it turned out that two years were like a flick of a finger.

In the long river of memory, it is easy to find the ...... of those happy years

6 years of elementary school life, until now, I have grown up! In what I understand, lying to be in junior high school means growing up! It was the first class of junior high school, and the teacher asked us to introduce ourselves and briefly introduce our understanding of **.

Maybe my "speech" was more exciting. The teacher actually said that it was the most wonderful thing she had heard in the whole year. I couldn't help but feel a ripple of happiness in my heart.

After that, I was added to the choir list. In countless noons on countless days, **teachers will always come out of our voices, to be honest, many people's knowledge has never been involved, of course, I am also one of the "many". However, now you can only start with the basics.

With countless days of hard work. Finally, everyone's knowledge and abilities have improved, and the teachers are very happy.

After a while, the vocal contact began. Every day at noon, we hear the sounds of "1234567". The teacher said that we worked harder than those students who sat in the class during their lunch break. For the sake of the teacher's words, we worked harder ......

The repertoire for the competition was finally decided, and it was a very sensual song composed by Mozart "Longing for Spring". After listening to Fan Sing, everyone unanimously affirmed this song. I vaguely remember the lyrics:

Come, dear May, dress the woods in green Let's watch the violets bloom by the creek How willing we are to see the violets again Come on dear May, let's go and play ......”

After a semester, after the recognition of the district, we participated in the competition with stars and moons, and in the end, we won the silver award. Although everyone was not very satisfied with this result, the teacher said that it was the best result Haicang achieved in the city competition......

Now it's all in the ......

Jingle bell. There is no mud and water, and there is no impurities in the sound of Qingyue. Since I was a child, I have loved to take it apart, turn the clockwork, and watch the axle turn from fast to slow over and over again, the steel bar plucks the particles engraved on the axle, and listens to the notes that vibrate again and again to connect into a beautiful tune.

When I was a child, I liked to listen to the sound of the music box, but now that I am older, I still have a persistent attachment to the music box. In that kind of voice, there is a clean and clear world that I yearn for. Looking at the little puppet on the music box slowly turning, it seems that the whole world, the whole mind follows the little puppet, slowing down with **, all the complexity and rapid changes have become simple, beautiful, and happy.

Tighten the clockwork and listen to ** start fast and gradually slow down. Just like the impetuous heart slowly quiets down, when the last note stops abruptly, what is left for me is a comfortable and comfortable blank. Perhaps, this is what makes me nostalgic for the music box.

When I was in the fourth grade of primary school, my Chinese teacher was Ms. Liu. One day, she gave me great encouragement.

And it came to pass that the first afternoon, she left us a set of language papers. When I got home, I made the rolls in earnest. The next day, in the Chinese class, Mr. Liu began to talk about this set of papers.

One of the questions is to write a philosophical folk proverb. Since I had done my homework beforehand, I was eager to answer this question, so I raised my hand. At this time, Mr. Liu saw it, probably because I always don't answer questions!

The teacher asked me to explain, and I said, "The strength of one person is small and easy to overcome, while the strength of a group of people is strong and invincible." The teacher listened and said aloud:

Yang Bixin can say this philosophical proverb, it seems that she has indeed improved, let's applaud her and encourage her! Immediately, there was thunderous applause, and I was very happy.

Afterwards, the teacher came to me and said to me, "If you don't raise your hand to speak, I don't know if you will." Because only by raising one's hand to speak, whether the answer is right or wrong, it proves that he is thinking, and only by raising one's hand can it be possible to understand what he has learned. ”