Four beautiful materials for college entrance examination composition

# College Entrance Examination # Introduction Let time leave its diligent mark on the branches of knowledge, green leaves of wisdom and mature fruits! If you want to write a good composition, the composition material is essential. The following are four beautiful essays for college entrance examination for your reference.

The tree on the tower

Yiwuyun

When you travel by boat, you can often find a tower when you are near the town. At present, I am boating in Wushui to Fenghuang, Shen Congwen's hometown, and I see an ancient pagoda standing abruptly on the high slope of the town. There is a big tree at the top of the tower, which looks like a Lv Yun on the front and an old man's head on the side.

When berthing at the dock, you should take a closer look at this landscape painting. This is an ancient tower with seven floors. Although it is aging, not only the masonry is mottled by wind erosion, but also the cornices of the tower corners are all damaged and incomplete, leaving only three lonely wind chimes, but it has lost its sound. Only the tower door blackened by incense sticks and the ashes left in the gap indicate that there are still people coming here to sacrifice. So, I think so.

However, I am determined to find out why the tree on that tower is so gloomy and how it survived. So he climbed the stone ladder. The winding path in the tower is narrow, because the air is humid and the stone wall is covered with moss. In order to prevent slipping, I dare not climb to the fourth floor. Fortunately, there are four arches on this floor for tourists to watch, and the slate is cool. I want to have a rest and communicate silently with the ancient pagoda.

There is a cool breeze blowing, but I hear the chirping of many birds outside the tower. The call of creatures is surging, such as the tide. The noise outside the tower is particularly urgent and full of anxiety. I was only surprised at first, but later I learned that the birds seemed to find me harassing their territory and were eager to expel me as an uninvited guest. I even felt all the birds hovering outside the tower flapping their wings and coming towards me, whistling the wind. Among them, several brave people swooped down from my head through the empty arch.

I have never seen such a spiritual bird. Just when I was in a hurry to escape, I suddenly heard birds singing from the third floor of the tower, but the volume was relatively weak. After careful analysis, I think it may be the cry of young birds and faint old birds living in the tower, begging or courting. Their voices are overwhelming. Imagine that they are eager to open their mouths or lift their wings. Wu also has feelings. Their mutual concern and vigilance against the provocateurs are reflected in the angry flapping wings outside the tower and the wailing inside the tower. I didn't mean it, but the birds thought I was intentional, deliberate. In an instant, ordinary behavior turned into a continuous rampage, which was extremely sinful.

I immediately felt a sense of guilt. I groped my way down the tower in thorough understanding. At this time, I found that there were different amounts of bird droppings on all the stones, and some of them were attached to this feather. Just when I bent down with my legs, I accidentally found a pile of protruding roots embedded in the moss in the gap of the tower wall. Looking around again, I still saw those roots clinging to the rock wall, either thick or thick. Some tree roots also stretch out green tendrils and become roots of tree roots. Shiny water drops hang on it, and the tower is like a shining star. The more I grope down, the more complicated the tendrils become. When I climbed the tower, I didn't notice the wonders around me, but now I feel that I have neglected the scenery around me. It can be seen that people are absolutely careless when they advance and retreat. Sure enough, when I finally walked out of the tower gate, all the exposed roots were displayed around the tower foundation.

What an indomitable and vibrant natural scene it is. I walked around the ancient pagoda and finally realized that it was being used and wrapped by roots. You have me and I have you, and our ancient pagoda has been completely uprooted. If there were not many roots guarding this thing with their tenacious strength, this lifeless stone would have collapsed and collapsed in the wilderness.

This discovery moved me. However, when I looked up after thinking deeply, I looked up at a mass of green shade towering over the tower and the birds flying around it, and my heart became brighter. I clearly feel that birds are the reason for the survival of this tree and this tower. Looking back at the whole process of my stay in the tower, it is because the bird droppings accumulated in the tower provide necessary nutrients for the intertwined roots and vines, so that the tiny roots can continue to extend. And push away, the green crown on the top of this survival, I don't know what year, month and bird it is, it is the tree species that the bird of Xuan Ming landed on the top of the tower.

The initial life of this tree, day after day, because the roots of the tree continue to penetrate into the cracks of the tower to absorb the essence of the earth, it has created a humid space in the tower. Birds, trees and towers are so interdependent that it is difficult to give up Nange, and finally a beautiful scenery and a harmonious and unified brilliant atmosphere are supported between heaven and earth. Is this God's will? This is fate? I almost put my hands together to pay tribute to this ancient tower.

Reluctantly, I bid farewell to this unknown ancient pagoda. I boarded the boat and floated to Phoenix and asked the crew what the legend of the tree on the tower left. They didn't understand, either the tree and the bird tied the knot and clung to each other like loving and persistent couples, or the tower was the loyal guardian of Phoenix, but one thing was the same, that is, they all gave alms to birds and trees sincerely. His harmony and reverence, the crew's statement is extremely simple, but it gives me a lot of thinking, because the scene before me shows the cordial tacit understanding of all things in nature and shows people a picture of life that conforms to nature, everything is true, everything is accommodating, quiet and far-reaching. Then, I suddenly felt that this tower, this tree, this bird, this mountain, this water and this boat were all kept by Shen Congwen.

(2) Rusted iron bells

Zong Pu

Autumn suddenly came, starting with the first flower of Hosta. The chubby white wooden stick seems to ring something, but it just opens quietly, emitting a refreshing fragrance. This is the fragrance of autumn, clear and rich.

Originally, you didn't need to make a sound with a Hosta stick, but there was the same sound in the garden. That is the belief of the whole garden: a wind chime hanging on the tangled branches and leaves in the arched door made of gold and silver rattan. This wind chime is very old, made of iron and engraved with wonderful patterns. The small hammer in the clock is very light and hung by a thin chain. When the wind blows, it swings and makes a dull hoarse sound. Spring is accompanied by cuckoo's distant calls, and summer relieves the annoying and persistent cicada calls. Crickets only stop when the wind chimes ring in autumn night. Little sparrows twittered in the winter sun, cocked their heads and pecked at wind chimes. The wind chimes rang as if to remind the sleeping plants that they were still alive.

"Iron bells!" Children call it that. They ran through the door woven with gold and silver vines, always reaching for it. Mianer, the thinnest of the children, often stands near the rattan door and studies it. The wind chimes were brought back by Mianer's father from a distant country. It can be seen from his eyes full of question marks that he thinks the bell is mysterious.

The dull hoarse voice of the wind chimes is like a charming contralto and a long sigh.

Mianer often dreams of her father who is always away from home. Miriam dreamed that she was sitting on a hammer with an iron bell. Holding that thin chain, like swinging, the whole bell swings over and over again, swinging high! He crossed an arc like a meteor and landed on his father's desk. All kinds of books and drawings blocked him like a high wall and he couldn't see anything. Dad may have gone to the lab. Dad said his desk was far enough, and his laboratory was farther away, in the desert. The desert is great.

"Dad!" Shouted the face. His shouts fell in the garden and woke up many plants. A small wooden stick-like Hosta stick opened a few flowers in surprise. Wei Zi suspiciously shook clusters of wrinkled little flower hats. Ma Yinghua didn't reply until morning. There are only a few pieces left in the cold of early autumn, and the edge of pink cheeks has turned yellow. Time is really running out.

"So there you are! Iron bell! " Mianer greeted her old friends as usual when she was at school. He stroked the bell gently, thinking it might be tired.

The wind chimes suddenly shook with increasing amplitude. The bell, which has always been low, is getting higher and faster, as if the rainstorm of life is pouring down, full of tension and joy. All the flowers and trees listened attentively to * * *, and the garden was shrouded in a solemn atmosphere. Face also stood still. The bell swayed bravely and desperately, and continued to sound like Hong Zhong. The sound stopped Mianer, who was a little scared.

"It uses itself too much." Wei Zi has seen the world.

After a while, Mianer stepped towards the school. With his distant back, the wind chimes gradually stopped, his voice gradually sank, and finally it became a sigh. Soon, the sigh disappeared. The garden is full of the clear and rich fragrance of Hosta.

Mianer came back from school and walked through the garden. The wind chimes are silent. The thin chain hanging with a small hammer stiffened and stopped shaking. There is no movement when you pull it by hand. His own heart hangs like a small hammer, drumming.

He didn't know what happened, so he went to the desert with his mother. The boundless desert sparkles like silver in the moonlight. Dad was lying in the bright light, smiling and silent.

Does he sing as heartily as that iron bell?

My face is so tired that I want to pull my father back on the bell. He remembered that it was simple. But the wind chimes are only hanging in the air, and the small hammer can't come down. He stood on his father's desk, tiptoeing and pulling hard, without even moving the chain. The top of the clock is green and dense, revealing a piece of white light. This is a crack. The chain stuck to the top of the clock and rusted.

If you hang it under the porch to keep out the rain, if you often oil it, don't you?

"It's very old. One day. " Mother sighed and comforted Mianer.

The garden lost its voice and everyone was puzzled. Hosta flowers soon withered; Lagerstroemia indica's crepe cap is gone; Only the leaves with symmetrical and slender tassels open and close sensitively, and the autumn rain slides on the leaves.

The rusty iron clock was taken down and sold to an antique dealer. Mianer hugged it for the last time, and big tears fell on the bell and flowed slowly through green rust, cracks and long and short ripples.

(3) Lotus leaf

Han kaichun

It was late autumn when I went to Hongcun that year, and I walked along the folds of Huangshan Mountain. The forest is dyed, the grass is yellow and the maple is red, and the walls are covered with white tiles. Ancient Huizhou is really spectacular. When I arrived in the village, the first thing I saw was a piece of clear water, a path leading directly to the middle of the lake, and a crescent-shaped stone bridge named Painting Bridge. It is said that when Ang Lee filmed Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon here, Li Mubai, the leading actor, took his white horse across the bridge.

However, my eyes were attracted by the withered residual lotus in the lake, and I suddenly thought of the reason why Lin Daiyu opposed Jia Baoyu's pulling up the broken lotus leaf in A Dream of Red Mansions: "I don't like Li Yishan's poems the most, but I only like his sentence" Leave the residual lotus to listen to the rain ". In a trance, I seem to see sister Lin's melancholy eyes crazy about the residual lotus. At that moment, I actually had the idea of staying in Hongcun for a long time. If I have the opportunity to stay in the academy by the lake, or walk along the bank of Shihu with an oil-paper umbrella on a rainy night, or lie down and listen to the rain through the stone window lattice, what a pleasant enjoyment it would be.

In fact, I have many opportunities to listen to the rain. In junior high school, there was a big lotus pond behind the dormitory. After the lotus root rises every year, no one cares about it anymore, leaving the lotus leaves in the pond to fend for themselves. But after all, I'm just a layman, and I'm not as smart as Sister Lin, so I haven't heard any poems, although I've heard a lot of rain.

I prefer the new lotus in summer to the withered and broken lotus. It is bright and full of green. It looks very pleasing to the eye and full of endless vitality. At noon or at night, some red or green dragonflies and damselflies will come to visit. Perhaps fascinated by the dazzling green of the lotus pond, they kept flying around in circles. They refused to leave for a long time, and when they were tired of flying, they rested on the newly-grown lotus tips. The little frog wearing a black and yellow striped pullover also surfaced, kicked and jumped onto the surface of the lotus leaf with its frog leap, and then a string of water droplets splashing around gathered in the center of the lotus leaf and condensed into a big, round and bright water droplet, reflecting the brilliance of the sun, like a dazzling pearl. They may have used this lotus leaf as a playground, drumming their big cheeks to help the cuckoo. There are also some fish with black backs, swimming leisurely under the big parasol propped up by lotus leaves, occasionally raising their big tails, giving a hard blow on the calm water, making a "splash" and splashing a large splash, then diving into the bottom of the water and never being seen again.

In this season, the happiest nature is children. Since the first lotus rose to the surface of the water and opened its beautiful smiling face, there will be children quietly sliding down the pond bank, holding their noses and lowering their heads like ducks frolicking on the water, and then diving to the bottom. When they come up, there will always be a delicate and sweet lotus root in their hands and they will go ashore. Sometimes I also play the game of water fights, imitating the appearance of Baiyangdian militia fighting devils in movies, holding a lotus leaf and a branch in my hand, closing one eye, aiming solemnly, snapping my fingers and making a "beep" sound in my mouth.

The memory of teenagers, except playing, is mostly closely related to taste buds, and so is the lotus leaf. Speaking of eating, I have to mention lotus leaf porridge, which my mother often makes in summer. Wash fresh lotus leaves, cut them into filaments, add some rock sugar and cook them with japonica rice. The porridge is blue and white in color, good in color and taste, fragrant and fragrant, and has the effect of clearing away heat and relieving summer heat. Lotus leaves can also wrap food. My grandfather has a habit of taking a lotus leaf, dry or fresh, when he goes to the market, which changes with the seasons. When he comes back, he always magically takes out a lotus leaf bag from his pocket, which sometimes contains a few braised pig heads and sometimes two fried dough sticks. He picked up the meat with chopsticks and threw it into my mouth. This is really different from what he used to eat. The smell of meat is mixed with the smell of lotus leaves. When I grow up, I read novels in Ming and Qing Dynasties and saw many street scenes. I just know that this move of wrapping cooked food with lotus leaves is not the initiative of my grandfather.

(D) Interest in Zhejiang

I really want to miss my childhood in Zhejiang, but I only remember some fragments: I went to a temple with my mother to watch early movies, went to the source of Cao 'e River to watch the tide, and went to a restaurant next to Shiqiao in Jiangwharf to eat wonton, which was so delicious that I never ate it again. And so on, can't connect, more and more blurred.

So I doubt whether I am worthy of being called a Zhejiang native.

I went to Hangzhou this time, lived next to the West Lake, and was lucky enough to go to Shaoxing. I saw Lu Xun's former residence, drank rice wine in Xianheng Hotel, stood outside the door and ate a bunch of oily tofu with a thick layer of hot sauce. After eating it, I feel that I like this place whether it is worthy or not.

The main colors here are black and white. Black tile roofs, white whitewashed stone roads, and even wooden columns are all black, rigorous and simple, but the space is huge, people have enough places for activities, and the objects are thick and reliable, like a big pickle jar in a big kitchen, and there is a warm human feeling in a simple life, just like Little Paradise, who reflects the moon in the three pools, has both strict teachers' commandments and naughty children.

Water is the beauty of Zhejiang, music and imagination.

Isn't there such a combination of black mud, white stone and green water in Lu Xun's artistic sketch? How simple and warm! Look how frugal he is with his pen. He always outlines a real life situation in a few short sentences, and at the same time always puts this situation in a lyrical atmosphere. He is the strictest and gentlest, which makes his most common narrative echo and appeal-his leap soil has become our childhood partner in all our memories. His "Wu Peng Boat" has become a dream boat for all of us, and his melancholy, anger and yearning have also become feelings that generations of readers can't get rid of.

Looking at the streets, shops and water towns in Shaoxing, I thought I knew this great writer better.

Returning to Hangzhou is another scene. 198 1 First time here. I am busy browsing places of interest, but I also take time to accompany an old friend to pursue the trace of his youth. I went to an old city, like a famous cloth shoe shop in the past, where elegant and comfortable black-faced white shoes were sold. Then enter a bacon shop. There is a long washed white wooden counter in front of you, with a dozen pieces of clean bacon on it. You can choose. The old building in this shop has a high roof, and there is no one in it, and there is no smell of bloody slaughterhouses like modern butcher shops. People choose meat calmly and cut it with a big knife, and a mellow bacon flavor rises.

This time, I really want to go out and see the streets and shops that still have the legacy of the Southern Song Dynasty, but I can't always be free. I only glanced at the main street in the central area in the car. Among the cities I have been to, I always think that Hangzhou is the most human in China. Even though the downtown area next to the station is noisy and the sidewalks are not crowded, some old shops still receive traditional courtesy.

It is difficult to distinguish between urban and suburban areas in Hangzhou. The road around the lake is not only a bustling city, but also seems to have washed the world of mortals because of the existence of the West Lake. Any travel-stained faraway person will suddenly feel refreshed when he sees the white lake.

The West Lake in the sun is beautiful, but more beautiful. This time, because I live by the lake, I walk around the lake day and night, and I always see various faces of the lake. In the early morning mist, in the evening sunset, the expression of the lake is different. In the dark night, I only saw the lights on the far shore rippling in the dark lake. When it's not too thick or too bright, I use plain face instead of nature.

When walking by the lake, I looked up and saw the mountains around the lake rising on the horizon, which was also pale blue. However, they are all charming. Give the West Lake thickness and weight. No one can treat the West Lake lightly. It has a personality, so I also saw the other side of Zhejiang: water makes it beautiful, but mountains give it a backbone.