Laohuaishu composition

No matter in school or in society, everyone has written a composition. Composition is a narrative method that expresses a theme through words after people's ideological consideration and language organization. So how to write a general composition? The following is the composition of the old pagoda tree that I carefully arranged. Welcome to learn from it. I hope it helps you.

In April of spring, everything comes back to life except me.

1 1 Inscription

I walked on the narrow path home in the country and sighed to myself: "Why! Why! How can I be so stupid! " The failure of several exams has kept my mood at a low ebb.

Unconsciously, I have returned home, walked into my room and closed the door. I couldn't help sighing for half a day, picked up my textbook, sat by the window and looked at the burning sunshine outside. It feels like the sun is laughing at me too much.

Suddenly, a breeze blew and the fragrance was fragrant. I looked into the distance with fragrance. It was an old pagoda tree. The old pagoda tree grows luxuriantly, setting off this bare village. Only its tattered body is incompatible with its lush branches.

Last winter, I thought it would never wake up, but the sight in front of me immediately denied my guess last year.

Look! This green leaf, like a boat piece by piece, ripples layer by layer, as if it would shed juice under the sunlight; White and beautiful flower bones, like pearls hanging on branches, are strung together by strings. A breeze blew, and the aroma was fragrant, as if to get them drunk under this locust tree. Everything is deeply immersed in beauty.

At this moment, my heart is pounding. The old locust tree in winter is silent, but it is actually working hard secretly. Spring has come, and the old locust tree has released all the energy that has bred the whole winter and contributed selflessly to its youth.

Oh, oh, oh! I see, a meaningful life lies in selfless contribution, and a meaningful life lies in continuous efforts, isn't it! Am I even inferior to an old locust tree? No way! I want to study, I want to work hard. ...

It's a new year. In spring and April, everything revives. I still sit by the window and look at the old pagoda tree in the distance. It still smells good. The difference is that I have a satisfied smile at the moment.

postscript

My mindless eyes swam out of the window inadvertently, attracted by the freshness of life.

That is an old pagoda tree, which is full of trees. How white!

It is neither as pale as when he was seriously ill, nor as bright and white as snowflakes in winter. It is a kind of white with sunshine, rain and dew and vitality.

There is a hint of green in white, and clusters are hung on the branches, dotted with branches and leaves of trees.

Every flower opens its little skirt and seems to be dancing lightly; Every flower is like a small wind chime, as if playing a natural melody.

They get together and inject the breath of life into every little bud.

From top to bottom, clusters of flower spikes condense from white to bright green, like hanging water drops, about to fall. Is that water as sweet as a mountain spring?

I was so fascinated that I forgot the disappointment of losing the game for a time. Look at the tree in the chirping of birds. It seems that this moment is completely different from the last moment.

Along the lush and lively green leaves and through the swaying flowers, I caught a glimpse of the branches of Sophora japonica, and my eyes froze again. Its branches are askew and split into two branches.

One stretches naturally, and the other half pokes on the ground. When it was about to land, it suddenly forced upward and twisted into an ugly tree tumor at the corner.

I know that the oblique branch used to be the main branch of Sophora japonica, but in a sudden rainstorm, it was not strong enough and fell down with a groan.

People don't care about the life and death of a locust tree. Who would have thought that it had new green and grew up against the sun?

You can't restore the power of plants with human imagination unless you see it with your own eyes.

I came to my senses and learned something through the life mechanics of this tree.

The sadness of failure and the pain of falling seem to have gone away from me. Full of hope, I wrote this beautiful picture with a pen.

The cruel wind swept everything, and the cold rainstorm washed everything. All the creatures are hiding, but he is eager to become more violent. He greeted all this proudly, and only she bravely faced it.

When the storm comes. Flowers gather its colorful flowers together tightly, and those tall and straight trees seem to have some fears. The animals all ran away, looking for shelter everywhere to put them.

When the storm came, the timid flowers seemed to shed tears, and they seemed to cry, "Help, help ……" However, it was too late, and the wind came in an instant, blowing her stagger, and the storm mercilessly knocked out her beautiful petals, leaving only the flower stems that had been blown off. In the face of all this, the towering trees look small. His lush green leaves have been swept away by the violent storm, leaving only a few scattered leaves and bare branches.

Only the old pagoda tree in front of the door walked on. Even though he is not as beautiful as a flower or as tall and burly as a tree, he is upright, upright and indomitable. Suddenly, a light flashed across the sky and split the old pagoda tree in half. I can't help worrying about the old locust tree.

But next spring, when the spring breeze blows, the small locust tree will grow on the stump of the old locust tree. These small locust trees are lush. It's really "lightning can't kill you, and the spring breeze blows high."

Although I like flowers, I prefer Sophora japonica. Because he has strong vitality and indomitable will. I like these of others.

In a village in Lantian, a family's locust tree can attract people's attention. This is the tree in front of our hometown. What attracts people's attention is not its height and burliness, but its holes.

If it is a simple locust tree, there is nothing to write, but it is because of its ordinary but seemingly not so ordinary significance that I am prompted to write this article.

In spring, the raw materials in Sophora japonica cooked by grandma are all obtained from this, but the quantity is very small.

The locust tree in front of the door is about two or three years younger than me, but it is old in terms of tree age.

This seems to be a joke in adults' mouths: this thing grows horizontally. Yes, the tree is very wide, but only two meters, very short, not in line with its vicissitudes.

As for the holes mentioned above, they are not too many. After all, this is the case.

When I was a child, because of the tree's appearance, I asked my grandfather to drill holes in it with an electric drill and hang a swing to play. This is the first scar left on it, and then countless holes are left on it one after another.

With the growth of my age, I feel guilty when I look at the locust tree that has not grown up in recent years, and I am naturally ashamed of my childhood requirements. Just this autumn this year, a bleak autumn day, I was bored and looked at the tree and the hole, but I couldn't help crying.

God is inferior to man. The village is rebuilt just for beauty, and then holes are made in the trees. The tree I saw seemed to bend helplessly, silently carrying the mailbox.

Finally, it was overwhelmed. After more than ten years of human destruction, natural ridicule and unfair treatment by God, it was broken. Cut off the trunk, and now look at the smooth wooden stake at the door, which is the last trace it left in the world.

I felt a faint bitterness in my heart.

Old locust tree composition 5 "Once upon a time, there was a locust tree rooted in this barren mountain. At that time, it was still a small locust tree, but now it has grown into a big locust tree. Time flies, we are all old, and the locust tree is also old. I remember when I first came to this place ... "When I was a child, my grandmother always moved a bamboo chair and sat under an old locust tree, telling me endless stories.

When I was in primary school, my mother always sent me back to my hometown every summer vacation. I vaguely remember that there is an old station under the old locust tree, with wooden columns and blue tiles. From time to time came the sound of leather shoes banging on the board. When the train pulled into the station, the flight attendant shouted to the crowd with a big horn in one hand, "Come in, the train is coming in." Please pay attention to safety. "Shouts spread to every corner of the station. From a height, there are a sea of people, including elegant scholars, dirty workers and many women in flowered clothes. Everyone carries big bags of things, pots, bowls, spoons and pots. They huddled together, you pushed me and dodged, peddled, pots and pans jingled and played a symphony of life. When I grew up, my grandmother moved away, and this voice never echoed in my ears again. But the station is still there, but it is not the old station ten years ago. He has changed.

Now the station has become a "gorgeous" dress. The heavy green leather train has turned the former appearance into a safe and comfortable bullet train, and the bullet train is no longer a manual stop call, but a broadcast communication. People's luggage is specially inspected. They line up with their ID cards and can get on the bus quickly with a brush. Sitting on a safe and comfortable train makes people feel comfortable.

Nowadays, it is very prosperous here, with high-rise buildings rising from the ground, but the old locust tree in memory is gone. This old pagoda tree, which witnessed the changes of the times, is also an important memory of my childhood. I buried it deeply in my heart.

Old locust tree composition 6 "Team leader Lu, there is an old gentleman outside looking for you." "Oh, I see." I put down my work and walked away quickly. From a distance, it was my father, standing under the old pagoda tree in front of the town government.

I was obsessed with reading novels during junior high school, and my academic performance plummeted. There is no hope of being admitted to a key high school. Under that old locust tree, my father is gentler than I expected. "Oh, if you don't study hard, you will become a basket case." I looked up at my embarrassed father and felt that he was crying ... From then on, I changed my way and went all the way to college. On the first day of work, when my father sent me away, he was still under the old locust tree, patting me on the shoulder and saying, "Baby, our ancestors were honest people. You should read more books and eat according to your ability. " For 30 years, my parents never let me go back to encourage and support me, no matter how busy the farm work at home is. I never call you even though I have a headache and a fever. I always say "You are busy, don't fall behind". Thinking of this, I feel very ashamed of my parents.

In July and August, the weather is very hot. The old locust tree in front of the town government has fallen leaves. Father leaned against the tree trunk, his face covered with sweat. I ran to the front in three steps: "Dad, it's hot, why did you run away?" My father had a smile on his face when he saw me. "Baby, you come back for so many days, don't go back and have a look. Your mother has been nagging you at home. " I am speechless. My hometown is less than one kilometer from where I work. However, I didn't go back once in this kilometer for more than 30 days! "Baby, your mother's health is not as good as usual this year. She often forgets things and doesn't know what to think. " Tears welled up in my eyes instantly, and I tried my best to hold them back and choked. "Dad, it's hot. Why don't you come in and have some tea? " "No, you are busy, I want to see you, and my heart is solid." Go ahead, take a closer look at me, turn around, get on the tricycle and walk away slowly. I stroked the old pagoda tree and shouted, I will definitely go back. ...

I am a lonely old pagoda tree, transplanted to a corner full of cobwebs. A cold wind blew and I couldn't help shivering. This reminds me of me.

I was once loved. I remember when I grew my first bud, people in the street looked at me with curious eyes. A little sister came running, touched my cheek, and then moistened me with clear water. My heart is sweeter than honey. How happy and beautiful!

A thunder interrupted my memory and brought me back to reality. I am old and weak, and I am prone to fracture. Today, I was scarred, and the sick wild dogs around me ignored me. Instead, they raised their paws and grabbed me, dug me up and hit me one by one, leaving me with no choice but to swallow my pride.

I can't help thinking that when I was in my prime, the thick trunk was deeply rooted in the soil, which provided me with enough nutrition and made me grow sturdily. There are many people enjoying the cool under my armpit, some playing chess, some painting, some chatting, and laughter everywhere. I am very happy!

"Boom" is another huge thunder, which woke me up. Many loggers talked around me, and I thought I heard the voice in their hearts: "This tree is really in the way. Why not refuse? It should fetch a good price! " So they approached me step by step with a chainsaw, and my heart hit it like a deer. "Ah" accompanied by a scream, the chainsaw has cut off one of my arms.

In the dim light, I seem to see the vibrant buds and thick trunks of my youth. Many people enjoy the cool under me, and sweet laughter rings in my ears. This scene will always be printed in my heart.

Gradually, the laughter drifted away from me, and I slowly lost consciousness. ...

Huhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Meeting! "

"coming!" All the leaves are turning respectfully and laboriously in the wind, listening attentively to Master Lao Ye's lecture. You know, the old leaves are in this old apartment (that's what leaves call their home-the old locust tree! ) the most respected leaf! I heard Grandpa Ye cough solemnly, shook his weak and yellow body and sighed, "Son! Did you find out? Now it's time to communicate in spring and summer. Our family has suffered a lot, I think! If this continues, our family will ... decline day by day ... Who can tell me, who knows what happened? "

Everyone is thinking. At this time, I only heard a loud noise, the leaves shook and I almost "jumped off the building". There are bold leaves squinting and shaking down a few times, ah! Is a "very small" human! I saw her leaping high from the ground, and suddenly ... under the leaves of the old locust tree, she came ... ouch! The leaves closed their eyes in fear! I only felt a violent vibration, and the "apartment" seemed to collapse! After a long time, Cui Cui, who lives on the 57th floor in the middle of the "apartment", shouted in horror: "Auntie! You, where have you been? " Everyone just opened their eyes, ah, there are some leaves on the ground, and Cui Cui's aunt! Some leaves cried, "Oh, isn't that my cousin?" "Oh, my God! Aunt, you too ... you too.

There is an old pagoda tree in my hometown. I don't remember how old it is. After years of ravages, the uneven trunk tells the vicissitudes of life. Grandma said that for more than ten years, the old locust tree has been guarding this land like a loyal guardian.

Spring, a night wet with dew. The huge tree body of the old Sophora japonica covers a large area, covering the cold moonlight and starlight under the shade. Warm wind brushed my cheeks, and my heart suddenly felt like a clear spring. Dawn breaks and everything becomes clear and bright in the morning. The lush trees of old Sophora japonica are dotted with nature, and the quiet fragrance of Sophora japonica permeates the whole sky, which makes people feel relaxed and happy.

In summer, the sun is like fire and the air is hot. Only the sleeping mat under the old pagoda tree, with a touch of green and a faint fragrance, drove away the boredom of summer and covered people's hearts with a cool green umbrella. Passers-by can't help but have a rest under the tree, feel the coolness of summer, clear the confused sight and put the sunshine in their hearts.

Autumn, the golden season, is full of the joy of harvest everywhere. A tree may not moisten the whole land, but it can moisten every leaf of itself, until the autumn wind comes to Xu Lai and Miss Qiu walks at a brisk pace. At that time, the old pagoda tree is also the most beautiful.

In winter, it is covered with snow, and one snowflake after another dances a beautiful waltz in the sky with the cold wind, covering the earth with a white, beautiful and lovely new dress. The monotonous old pagoda tree stands aside and looks out of place in this silver world. As the weather gets cold, leaves fall in succession. At this point, the old locust tree has been extremely dry. The old pagoda tree stands quietly and steadily, competing with the rest of the world, looking forward in the cold snow and ice, waiting for the spring when everything recovers as scheduled.

A philosopher once said: "Don't lament, life is like a leaf of green, and finally it matures into a golden dream." Although this is a famous saying with praise, it is also a life of eulogizing the tree.

Life is like a long road, and the four seasons of the tree are enduring the scorching sun and wind and rain. We should look at life calmly like a tree.

Old Sophora composition 10 Hello! Hello, everyone, I am an ordinary old locust tree, located in the playground on the west side of Gulang No.3 Middle School. Today, I will tell you about your day's work: describing the scenery.

It's snowing these days. The west playground after the snow is also worth appreciating. As the sunrise approaches, the hazy moonlight gradually recedes, and a layer of gauze covers the earth and freezes under the glow.

The moonlight in the winter night is particularly cold in the reflection of snow, but the snowflakes everywhere are flashing and jumping in this cold moonlight, which makes people's eyes shine.

At this time, the eyes were full of excitement, and the students freed from imprisonment picked up the snow sweeping tools and hastily carried out a "snow-removing war." Little girls are chatting in the group, boys are waving shovels and brooms, and many people are running after each other in snowball fights.

It's good to be young and energetic. The only thing that bothers me is that these children pour snow on me with trolleys. That's it, as long as they are happy, we will cover them with a quilt.

As soon as the bell rang, everything was calm again. The eyes are no longer white, but have become snowdrifts. It's like competing with each other, one pile is bigger than the other.

The snow on the basketball stand melted by half, and the snow water was particularly bright under the light, which made my eyes turn.

After a night of heavy snow, my brothers and sisters were covered with many small ice crystals and scattered snowflakes, forming a beautiful rime in people's mouths. Branches are also wrapped in silvery white, hanging loosely on both sides, and are brighter by the sun. If you look closely, you will definitely feel that you have entered the world of ice and snow.

The colors in winter are monotonous, but the scenery is not monotonous.

The atmosphere in winter is cold, but the students' hearts are not.

The campus in winter is very pure. Walking in it and letting snowflakes fall on your shoulders may make you feel relaxed and happy.

I am an old locust tree, so let's share this story here. See you next time!

Old pagoda tree composition 1 1 Grandma's family has moved to a new home. I haven't been to grandma's hometown for a long time. I wonder if that old pagoda tree is good now.

Grandma's old pagoda tree is not tall, but it is dense. Summer, under the shade of trees, is my favorite place to go, where there are endless stories.

Sitting in the shade of a tree, the cool breeze blows gently, and the leaves shake to me. Listening to the rustling of leaves, it's like an old locust tree telling me the past. Every time I come, the leaves seem to say to me, "Welcome to play!" " "And whenever I want to leave, the leaves will be reluctant to go, as if to say to me," Come and play next time! " "

I often play games in the shade of trees, and I like playing with little ants best. I first filled the puddle in the shade with water, then picked up a small leaf, caught a few small ants on the leaf, and the small ants began their voyage exploration!

The water in the puddle rippled under the breeze, and the leaf boat began to float in the water with the little ants. I will stir in the water with a wooden stick for a while, like a whirlpool of the sea. The leaf boat kept rocking in the water and was about to turn over. The little ants quickly dispatched troops and retreated to the middle of the leaves to avoid danger. I puffed up my cheeks and blew into the water like a storm at sea. The boat glided rapidly, and the little ants stood at the top of the leaves, braving the wind and waves. I sat by and watched quietly for a while, imitating the scene when the sea was calm. Little ants are crawling around leisurely on the leaf boat, taking it easy. They must think that the leaf boat is like a pirate boat in the playground, which is very fun. Finally, I pushed the leaf boat to the shore, and the little ants couldn't wait to climb ashore. One by one, they rushed to the ant nest, brave and fearless, definitely to tell their companions about today's adventure.

Grandma's family has moved to a new house. I haven't been to grandma's hometown for a long time. I wonder if the old locust tree is okay now.

There is a lush old pagoda tree in front of grandma's house. I saw it when I was born. It is said that he is much older than me. Old pagoda tree, its trunk is so thick that three children can't hold it. The skin is rough and chapped, and insects crawl in and out from time to time. This old pagoda tree is very tall. I stood below and could hardly see the crown. It is about ten meters high.

Spring is coming! Rough skin gradually turns green, thick branches look a little green, and old locust trees sprout! The bud grew up slowly and became a big dark green leaf, covering the whole tree. Swallows also flew back from the south! And nesting in the treetops of old locust trees. A few days later, two swallows gave birth to some lovely babies. A few magpies are always standing on the branches and chirping, as if congratulating the swallows.

Summer is here! The sun burns like a big stove. I was playing with my friends, sweating like a pig, and rushed to the shade of an old locust tree to have a rest. The old pagoda tree is like a big green umbrella, which hugs us in our arms and lets us enjoy the cool. In the evening, we moved the desks and chairs to the old locust tree and ate delicious food in the sky. The rosy clouds on the horizon, the evening breeze and the homing birds flying overhead are all our good friends.

Autumn is here! The leaves turned golden, the breeze blew and the leaves danced in the sky. I can't help picking up some leaves. When I look carefully, the golden leaves are very beautiful. I put them in a book as bookmarks.

It's winter! It's getting cold and it's snowing heavily. I rushed out of the house happily and went to make a snowman and have a snowball fight under the old locust tree. Cheerful laughter lingered around the old locust tree, and we circled around it. The old locust tree looked at us with a smile, like a happy grandfather.

I like the old pagoda tree in front of grandma's door. Like our family, it spent many spring, summer, autumn and winter with us. Brought us endless fun!

Neighbors have been uninhabited for many years, and the yard has been abandoned for many years. But that humble home has a good treasure: a big locust tree.

That big pagoda tree is thick and tall, like a burly giant. The branches and leaves on the tree are luxuriant, like a natural sunshade. Besides enjoying the cool, it is more gratifying that it grows many Sophora japonica flowers every year.

The so-called spring blossoms, and in spring, many Sophora flowers will naturally grow on the trees. As a neighbor, I often smell the flowers. I can't stand the temptation. I often force my family to pick Sophora japonica with tools. Under the big pagoda tree, I saw other neighbors gathered around to pick this sought-after treasure-Sophora japonica. Everyone is happy under the big locust tree, talking and laughing and doing their jobs. Adults are busy picking Sophora japonica flowers, and children are watching eagerly below. Fight with friends from time to time. Soon, the Sophora japonica on the tree was looted, and everyone went home with baskets.

As soon as I got home, I couldn't wait for my grandmother to steam Sophora japonica flowers for me. I saw grandma unhurriedly sprinkle the cleaned Sophora japonica with corn flour, mix well and put it in the pot, then cover the pot, and soon white steam appeared on both sides of the pot. At this time, my mouth is watering, and I can't wait to take off the steamer and scoop a bowl at once. But grandma doesn't allow me to eat. It was not until dinner that grandma served steamed Sophora japonica on the table. I, already eyeing up, immediately picked up a spoon and swallowed Sophora japonica in one gulp.

After dinner, the big bowl of Sophora japonica is empty, leaving only a few pieces of slag.

Year after year, day after day, sunrise and sunset, flowers bloom and fall. Sophora japonica accompanied me from a young child to a charming teenager.

It selflessly dedicates Sophora japonica to mankind every year, but asks nothing in return.

I think this is the secret of Sophora japonica.

Old pagoda tree composition 14 Xiaojie, look, the pagoda tree is blooming again. Sister said, looking out of the window at a white world, the old days reappeared in front of me, and only white was left in the vague sight. So, the long river of memory pulled me back to four years ago. When I was only four years old, I knew that the tree that could be steamed and eaten in the garden was called Sophora japonica, and the white flowers full of trees were Sophora japonica. Every year when the flowers bloom, the whole family will pick some flowers to steam. Therefore, when I play in the garden, I always hold the old pagoda tree and say with confidence: You should bloom more, so that I can water and fertilize you more every day. The old tree seems to understand, the branches are swaying in the wind, the vegetables are getting smaller and smaller, and the locust tree is blooming.

Maybe it's the vanity of children. One day at noon, I brought many children to play at home. I don't know who it is, but I saw the old pagoda tree, which was in full bloom and beautiful. So, everyone jumped and jumped with the locust tree in their arms, clamoring for it. I didn't object, but I helped them choose a lot. I felt like a hero the moment I climbed the tree. Picked a string of wind chimes, and the flowers were held tightly by the children, which seemed a little breathless. They were scrambling below, so I kept picking and broke many branches of Sophora japonica. In the evening, they left. At this time, the wind blew again outside the window, and the old locust tree shook its branches as if it were moaning. I seem to know a lot.

Later, when I came home from school, there was no one outside the window, and the familiar green was gone. I ran to the garden like crazy, and only the messy branches and leaves on the ground greeted me. The old locust tree is gone, which once sheltered me from the shade of countless scorching sun, the thick trunk and the sweet locust tree, Xiaojie. Have you seen the locust tree opposite? My sister's question brought me back to reality. Come on, sister, I'll show you flowers. Then I saw a little brother picking flowers. I advised him and begged him not to pick flowers. As I spoke, tears welled up in my eyes!

Composition of Old Sophora japonica 15 In the southwest corner of my hometown yard, there used to be a tall and strong old Sophora japonica.

My mother recalled that when I was one year old, it was summer. Once she took me back to my hometown and held me under the old locust tree to enjoy the cool. I stood by and stood up slowly, threw myself down, stood up again, and threw myself down again. Finally, once I helped the old locust tree stand up and didn't throw myself down again. On the contrary, I waddled up to my mother and shouted excitedly, "Mom-Mom!" My mother hugged me in surprise and didn't believe I could walk, but the old pagoda tree actually became my nanny and helped me take the first step in my life.

Gradually, I grew up and spent more and more days alone with the old locust tree. I will walk around the old pagoda tree alone, then lean against the old pagoda tree, close my eyes and enjoy the pleasure brought by brief dizziness. When I am tired, I will squat under the tree and watch the ants go up and down on the old locust tree. I think the old pagoda tree is amazing. It stood motionless on the ground, but raised so many ants. Birds also like to stay on it. Without this old pagoda tree, some sparrows and swallows are tired of flying. Where can we rest?

Old Sophora japonica is not only the companion of insects, ants and birds, but also can support people. According to my grandfather, when I was a child, eating Sophora japonica leaves caused famine, and Sophora japonica has been eaten until now. Every year when the Sophora japonica blooms, I am "sent" to the tree by my mother, watered with a fragrant Sophora japonica and steamed.

Besides blowing Sophora japonica, I spend more time with Sophora japonica every time I go back to my hometown. Scrambling to get up, riding in the middle of the largest branch of Sophora japonica, leaning on the largest branch, let Sophora japonica gently touch my face and scratch my forehead, as if my mother's gentle hand were touching me. After enjoying the touch of Sophora leaves enough, I will climb up again, feeling like stepping on my father's shoulder and seeing higher and farther.

Four years ago, in order to make up for grandma's operation expenses, the old pagoda tree was sold by her father. When Buyu Shuren came to my house, the chainsaw creaked, and the old locust tree sobbed and fell down. My eyes were full of tears.

I lost that old pagoda tree, but I will always remember the days I walked with it, the days I walked with a kind and kind elder.