Prose "The Most Beautiful Meeting"

Prose "The Most Beautiful Meeting", in real life, many friends will read prose in their spare time. Prose can express the author's true feelings and has certain implications. Let's share the essay "The Most Beautiful Meeting" with you.

Prose "The Most Beautiful Meeting" 1 I still remember that an accidental opportunity came to your space, and your singing was as light as a flower in my heart. I still remember that the beautiful melody and beautiful notes will float repeatedly in my speaker every night. The heart rhymes with it, as if all the past events were in a trance in a dream. Thinking alone, memories are floating in the wind. Listen to your heart, so sad and helpless.

Last night, Lanzhou swam in the picturesque south of the Yangtze River, and a bunch of heartwood bloomed in a dream. Dancing in the faint night, your tenderness is as beautiful as when we first met.

How many times, I found my way in my dream, flying rain and falling flowers! How many times have I come and gone in my dreams and strayed into the depths of the lotus!

Cherish you, stare at you for so long, misty and rainy. Thank you for so long. Looking back, people are thinner than yellow flowers.

It's the colorful season of falling in Britain again, and I didn't know my thoughts flew over Qian Shan until I thought of you.

Pick a maple leaf, hold a cloud and send it away. I miss you. Draw a sketch and write some short poems for you, my dear!

Willow Yiyi, the wind is coming gently! One turns around, smiles and looks forward to it. The seeds of love are in the picturesque south of the Yangtze River!

Your gentle eyes always stay in my brow! Under the voiceless tone, do you know that I am drunk!

Do you know that?/You know what? I've been waiting for you for a thousand years. Do you know that?/You know what? You are the most beautiful meeting in my life.

Essay "The Most Beautiful Meeting" 2 On a night without stars and the moon, only the slightest breeze passes through the screen window, bringing coolness. A person sits quietly by the window, letting his thoughts fly. When he closes his eyes, all he can think of is your figure. Imagine that you have entered a sweet dream at this moment. Every time, I want to write you a short message. However, despite a thousand words, I don't know where to start. Only my confused thoughts bother me, and my thoughts spread freely from the keyboard.

In this quiet night, I miss you, I miss you very much, but at this moment, I can't express it in one word. Miss, or miss, through the distant and deep sky, you will watch for a long time. I miss you so quietly and call you quietly in my heart. I really want to spend the night with you in this quiet night sky.

Although I know that this kind of voice is far away from us, I can only accompany you in my dream. But I always feel that no matter how far away, you can hear it.

Buddha said: Looking back on the past 500 years, only this life passed by. So when I met you in this life, did I look back thousands of times in my last life? I don't know if we really had fate in our last life. I just want to tell you that it's good to meet you in this life and be your lifelong confidant!

Writing here, my thoughts are still flying, and my clear thoughts are still you, me and that one. I don't know how to convey this message, but I must send it to the breeze. I believe you can feel it when it flies far away from home. There is a sentence buried deep in my heart that I really want to say to you: Do you know? Meeting you is the most beautiful meeting in my life. ...

The essay "The Most Beautiful Meeting" 3 is another late autumn, and the persimmons in the ravine are yellow. Every year in this season, I will listen to my friends say how tempting it is to see the ripe persimmons in Qingzhou and Linqu Mountain and the red leaves dyed by the forest in February. The desire to see them with my own eyes has been lingering in my mind.

It happened on a weekend. With a deep yearning for the depths of the mountains, I resolutely packed my bags and walked into the mysterious and sacred mountains with a group of photos as I hoped, enjoying the richness and beauty of autumn in the harvest season.

In the evening, I set my mobile phone clock to 4: 00 a.m. and set off at 4: 30 a.m., drove more than 200 kilometers, arrived at the foot of the mountain with Zhaizi Valley written on it at dawn in the east, and followed the arrow to the direction of Persimmon Valley. The mountain road I imagined was a rugged mountain dirt road. Unexpectedly, the mountain road was hardened by cement. Although the road surface is not wide, it can drive two cars and meander into the depths of the mountains. The car moved slowly at the foot of the mountain. Looking up through the window, the mountain shadows are layered, and the hillside is covered with red, yellow and green plants with dazzling colors.

Looking down, white walls and blue tiles, mountain villages are looming, and there are idyllic scenery in the depths of the mountains. Trees are everywhere, and persimmons are as red as lamps. Looking around, you can see persimmons covered with branches, as if nodding to us from a distance.

The mountain is not high, but the scenery is famous. Every autumn when there is frost, nature's uncanny workmanship will dress this place very exquisitely. The yellow persimmons and the red maple leaves are green and colorful before they can change clothes, just like being painted with colorful black and pink, and deliberately dumped. Autumn has been sad and lonely since ancient times. I say autumn is better than spring. The beauty of autumn here is no less than that of spring, but it is also a heavier harvest than spring.

Walking in this fruitful autumn gallery, enjoying the golden eyes and feeling the warm embrace of the mountains, the fragrant persimmons make me drool. At the corner of a hillside, I met an old farmer picking persimmons from a tree. Occasionally he fell to the ground, so I picked a soft one and tasted it. It was so astringent that my taste buds lost consciousness for a while. The old farmer looked down from a tree more than ten meters high and saw my ugly expression.

I couldn't help laughing, so I was told what to eat and what not to eat. The hospitable old farmer picked four ripe soft persimmons with red pulp and juice, tore a small mouth in his hand and sucked it into his mouth, like a clear spring, pure and refreshing. Time filters out bitterness, leaving only sweetness and astringency. What a painful experience! Isn't life like this?

I talked to the old farmer under a seemingly old persimmon tree and learned that it is famous for its rich persimmons. After deep processing, persimmon cakes are sweet and nutritious, and are deeply loved by people. Persimmon trees have also become a cash cow for every household. There are many persimmon trees over 500 years old, and it is not unusual for each persimmon to produce hundreds or even thousands of kilograms. Careful observation shows that persimmon trees here are not planted like peach trees, pear trees and other fruit trees here.

They are scattered on hillsides, roadsides and around courtyards, and their growing conditions are not as bad as those of peach trees and pear trees. According to the old farmer, the temperature and humidity of the special environment in the mountainous area are just right for its growth. Actually, we are no strangers to persimmons. There are many persimmon trees in the front and back of our local house, in the fields, but we always feel that there is something missing compared with here. Yes, the special natural geography and human environment endow it with a unique aura. Persimmon trees grown in this environment have their own uniqueness in tree shape and fruit flavor.

Autumn, first frost, fallen leaves, persimmon yellow, every household is busy picking persimmons. From 80-90-year-olds to children of several years old. A man with strong physical strength climbs a ladder and a tree several tens of meters high to pick persimmons. Old people and children are responsible for peeling them, and then hang the peeled persimmons on a shelf to cool. The unique' labor scene' is like the most beautiful scenery. It is said that many years ago, there were photographers and painters who collected wind and sketched.

Sending works online, such a "paradise" hidden in the mountains, has aroused great concern of artists from all walks of life. Until now, an endless stream of foreigners with various accents have come to their places to seek creative inspiration. In Zhaizi Valley, we met photographers from Beijing and Jiangsu, with long guns and short guns on their shoulders and professional models. Because they are the same age, there is naturally no gap between them, and they exchange and learn from each other like good friends.

Although there is no wonder of Guilin's landscape, no show of Huangshan pine, and no myth and legend of Populus euphratica in Xinjiang for 3,000 years, you still attract countless artists with your unique charm. They don't have such scenery there. Different scenery, different moods, will have different gains. Photos and paintings are the footprints of footsteps and the treasures of time. Even if the years are ruthless, you will find traces of the past when you open dusty memories.

Sitting on the stone steps of the small bridge connecting the two villages at the foot of the mountain, I looked up at the red leaves on the hillside, looked down at the Qingxi in the ravine, and listened to the beautiful music played by Qingxi, as if I were in a clean and harmonious world, enlightening my mind, baptizing my spirit and intoxicating me, which made me relaxed and happy.

I am full, but I am hungry. In a farmhouse restaurant in Zhaizi Valley, I rewarded my hunger with pancakes with hawthorn flavor and persimmon flavor, and then continued our journey of discovery.

One side of the soil and water support one side. It turns out that the traffic in mountainous areas is inconvenient and the information is blocked. People who live in the depths of the mountains dream of going out of the mountains to see the wonderful world outside. With the development of society and the prosperity of economy, hardworking, simple and kind mountain people have changed backward and isolated mountain villages, making every family rich and everyone beautiful. Nowadays, most of the young people in the mountain village have stepped out of the mountains, struggled in the wonderful world, and realized the dreams that several generations have had. The long-lost homesickness can only remain in the memories of several generations.

The mountain can't break the road, and the water can't stop the way home. Only when we leave, do we know the brevity of happy time. In the evening, we reluctantly bid farewell to the mountain.

Wait for me, and we will arrive as scheduled in this splendid season next year. "Waiting for you, waiting for you, waiting for you, waiting for you in the mountains, you are my most beautiful encounter, you are the most beautiful miracle in my life ..." The call of this distant mountain echoed in my ears, and my excitement was hard to calm down.

Yes, I met the most beautiful you in the most beautiful season. Why not meet the most beautiful one? I'm glad you came.