A collection of beautiful essays describing the sunset.

In the warm glow of the sunset, industrious and simple people went through hardships and unloaded heavy plows. The sunset gave them a holy aura, circled the fatigue of years and the heaviness of life, and let them relax. The following is a selection of beautiful essays describing the sunset that I compiled for you. Welcome to consult them.

Selected Works of Beautiful Prose Describing the Sunset Part I: Beautiful teenagers in the sunset, nothing can trap their yearning for freedom, like to be alone, have fun together occasionally, have no intrigue, only childlike feelings, and enjoy them to the end.

The wind is long, the clouds are long and the people are long. Silent joy spreads in the deep heart and covers the whole world.

Running fast in the warm sunshine, the hot air is cool with a little moisture. The footsteps rotate, and the flying dust is pulled up behind them. Cheeks are reddish and sweat oozes gently. It dripped down the temple and wiped his forehead. Then a stream floated between your fingers, flicked, fell into the soil behind you and disappeared.

A mountain, that is the beauty of the old days. Appear at the foot of that mountain again. A woman in a white suit is waiting there. I don't know how long she has been waiting. I just walked by the corner of my mouth and saw her smile. Her white lips and teeth sparkled in the sun, and her dazzling beauty was instantly engraved in my memory and flashed in my memory, illuminating the darkness.

Going deeper along the path, the rocks are scattered all over the floor, a stream of water hangs upside down, and a small waterfall crashes down and flows to a tortuous recess. The lifted water drops rippled in the palm of your hand, and the cool ice dispersed the slight heat, so you walked higher.

There is no running water, only pine trees and yellow grass with no edge in sight. Under the gentle breeze, layers of waves are swaying, and the fragrance is intoxicating, just like a fairyland.

Holding a light blue umbrella in her hand, she tilted slightly, blocking the sunshine, smiling in the wind, her hair flying, emitting a faint fragrance, disturbing her mind, getting lost in the wind and grinning unconsciously.

Happy time always passes quickly, the sun is getting redder and redder, and it gradually sets to the west, just falling on the top of the mountain. Her umbrella didn't open, and the sunset was facing her cheek. She covers the sky with one hand, and the sunset is enchanting, spreading different beauty. The short hair on her forehead is tilted more obliquely, and the hair at the back is tilted more and more. The white skirt was stained with a touch of gold, and the skirt danced with the evening breeze, full of brilliant red ribbons.

The beauty of the old days also has the sunset glow, and the mountains dance enchanting under the red glow of the sunset glow, and the sound of returning birds is the most beautiful accompaniment. The sunset between two ancient trees is better than neon lights at night, running water in the sunset, golden light and ripples caused by the breeze. I am drunk and ordinary.

Look, how beautiful the fallen leaves are, dancing with the sunset. The wind always runs in a hurry. Occasionally, the red leaves in the sky spin in the sunset. A pair of boys and girls walked leisurely, and a beautiful picture came out. If a photographer takes pictures, he will surely fascinate the world. The most beautiful thing is sunset red.

The sunset stretched the figure, looking at her and looking at the sunset, occasionally looking at the fluttering red leaves, the smile at the corners of her mouth seemed to never stop.

Who is in full bloom when you gently wave your hand and raise your mouth at sunset?

Do you remember what you said many years ago? Looking at the sunset, life is like a dream? I want to know.

Selected Works of Beautiful Prose Describing the Sunset Part II: The scenery of the sunset is bare in the distant mountains, and the west oblique sun shines its light on Ma Junping, where the ravines are clear and the rock ridges are clear, and the yellow land under my feet.

I met a shepherd on the edge of the ping, and when I got closer, it turned out to be an old secretary. I was very surprised at the chance meeting between them, so I paid a courtesy call.

I stared at Gao Yuanfeng's sketched portrait at random; Like the crow's feet of a spider's web, there is a warm and sincere look in his eyes. So I asked him about his spirituality with reverence and familiarity.

Sheep are chasing and frolicking on the hillside, and the mountains in the western plateau are layered, which will always be majestic and vast.

The old secretary seemed to show off his vitality with a whip soaked in soil and refuted by sweat. He nodded warmly.

? Old secretary, are you herding sheep?

? Hey! Haha,? A smile appeared on my face, and a pair of eyes that had hurried by after years of hard work and longing suddenly recognized me.

? You poor child, there are waves in my uncle's house, right? . I can't help herding sheep in the ditch with a whip.

? The children went to school, and the adults went out to work and worked in the fields. I'm no longer a village party secretary, so I'm in a hurry to get the children's sheep together and take them away. .

? Oh? I greeted him and watched him whip, and the expression on his face changed with our small talk.

I'm still used to calling him old secretary. As a fellow villager, I basically know him and ask him to pay attention to everything in the village. He is an old party member, and his thinking ability is good.

After a while, he told me about the village as he walked. Happy and honest as before. I admire his sincerity and a little taste of sunset business.

The countryside is getting better and better. Children are knowledgeable, smart, engage in rich industries, make young people cadres, bring income to villagers, and develop beautiful and harmonious villages. May I propose a toast? Purple Lanzhou? He waved his hand, took out yellow smoke from his pocket, cut it into strips with newspaper, glued it with lip liquid, borrowed my lighter and smoked hard, leisurely and loud.

The old secretary talks a lot, so I won't reply much. They are all my elders in terms of seniority and experience. I can only bow my head and respect his rambling.

The policy is very good, new rural construction, beautiful countryside, happy home; Accurate poverty alleviation in counties and towns has broadened the channels for farmers to increase their income. Every day, TV newspapers report that the elderly have a sense of security and medical care.

The old secretary poured all smiles into the sunset sky, and the horizon was as red as fire. Babaochuan at the foot of the mountain, a vibrant village; The beauty of tomorrow's new countryside will bloom in the setting sun.

I listened to his sincere honesty. Indeed, the villages in Babaochuan are scattered with farmhouses, overlooking the flat and tidy village roads, and Baochuan Highway runs through them, which is a beautiful rural picture.

Good policies, farmers get benefits, life is guaranteed, and there are many beautiful things; The key to rural development and farmers' prosperity lies in taking the lead. Our Babaochuan village should further develop the road of beautiful countryside and improve the quality of grassroots leaders. You see, Renhe Village in Honggu District has done a good job, and the construction of new countryside has become an example for learning, which is very awesome.

I respect his honesty, which actually shows the fact that an old party member doesn't mix water. This is his heart sound, the experience of grass-roots work, expressing his loyalty and sincerity. When you speak, your smile shows your admiration for beautiful countryside.

Driving a sheep, this is where his sunset life lies. Life is healthy. He is a happy shepherd at this time. I listen quietly and indulge in it. The afterglow of the setting sun shines warmly in Babaochuan, softly emitting colorful light.

Selected beautiful essays describing the sunset Part III: A touch of sunset and a touch of yellow on the horizon. I got up early yesterday. I was assigned to pick up the bride, who lives in the countryside, and our cars and horses went all the way west.

Because it was too early, the street was quiet and it was raining. At first it was scattered all over the place, but then there was smoke underground, and we soon came to the suburbs. A few days ago, it was a green crop, but now it is golden. The golden wheat field is facing the wind in June, bathed in the rain in early summer, and looking at the golden wheat field reminds me of a touch of yellow on the horizon.

At the beginning of August last year, although we didn't have much time to sleep after a flight of more than ten hours, we were still attracted by all the new ideas from abroad and didn't feel a little sleepy. In the evening, on our way from Venice to Florence, after crossing the golden fields, I was attracted by yellow, which still often flashes in my mind.

In the evening, the blue sky and white clouds faded away, the sun in the west hung in mid-air, and the faint afterglow dyed the west in different colors. The place where heaven and earth communicate, first pink, then reddish, rosy, and finally burgundy, with rosy clouds shining. I looked at the colorful sky for a long time and didn't miss a moment. It is already seven o'clock in the evening.

In the sun, endless golden wheat fields spread out in front of our eyes. Under the setting sun, Jin Shanshan and Huang Cancan became more and more dazzling, as if they were all covered with gold. The golden ears of wheat were covered with grains, and they bent over with laughter in the breeze of Adriatic Sea. The evening breeze caressed, the ears of wheat swayed, the waves of wheat rolled, and the earth was covered with a yellow blanket. This kind of scenery was once seen in Miller's Woman Picking Ears, and it was a scene of farmers' harvest. Now, in this golden wheat field, I am no longer poor. I saw several harvesters slowly shuttling back and forth in the field, harvesting, holding heavy ears of wheat in their arms. There is no trace of people in the vast fields, which shows how developed agricultural mechanization is in Europe today, and farmland affairs no longer need many laborers to solve.

In the distance, under the golden color, there is no farmhouse, only a few piles of wheat. Some farmland has been harvested. The harvested wheat stalks are not scattered randomly there, but all rolled into bundles and placed neatly in the ground. Beyond gold, I can see a piece of green in the distance. Later, I learned from others that it was a famous olive tree in Italy. Today, China people eat a lot of olive oil from there.